the Romans to burn their dead.

Thus, then, he did; and then he caused men to do away the barriers and
open all the four gates of the new-made garth, after he had manned the
wall with the slingers and bowmen, and slain the horses, so that the
woodland folk should have no gain of them. Then he arrayed his men at
the gates and about them duly and wisely, and bade those valiant footmen
fall on the Goths who were getting ready to fall on them, and to do their
best. But he himself armed at all points took his stand at the Man's-
door of the Hall, and swore by all the Gods of his kindred that he would
not move a foot's length from thence either for fire or for steel.

So fiercely on that fair morning burned the hatred of men about the
dwellings of the children of the Wolf of the Goths, wherein the children
of the Wolf of Rome were shut up as in a penfold of slaughter.

Meanwhile the Hall-Sun standing on the Hill of Speech beheld it all,
looking down into the garth of war; for the new wall was no hindrance to
her sight, because the Speech-Hill was high and but a little way from the
Great Roof; and indeed she was within shot of the Roman bowmen, though
they were not very deft in shooting.

So now she lifted up her voice and sang so that many heard her; for at
this moment of time there was a lull in the clamour of battle both within
the garth and without; even as it happens when the thunder-storm is just
about to break on the world, that the wind drops dead, and the voice of
the leaves is hushed before the first great and near flash of lightening
glares over the fields.

So she sang:

"Now the latest hour cometh and the ending of the strife;
And to-morrow and to-morrow shall we take the hand of life,
And wend adown the meadows, and skirt the darkling wood,
And reap the waving acres, and gather in the good.
I see a wall before me built up of steel and fire,
And hurts and heart-sick striving, and the war-wright's fierce desire;
But there-amidst a door is, and windows are therein;
And the fair sun-litten meadows and the Houses of the kin
Smile on me through the terror my trembling life to stay,
That at my mouth now flutters, as fain to flee away.
Lo e'en as the little hammer and the blow-pipe of the wright
About the flickering fire deals with the silver white,
And the cup and its beauty groweth that shall be for the people's
feast,
And all men are glad to see it from the greate