st be blent with the battle's darkness and the unseen hurrying bane?
Do ye, of all folk on the earth, pray God for the changeless peace,
And not for the battle triumphant and the fruit of fame's increase?
For the rest, thou mayst not be lonely in thy welfare or thy woe,
But hearts with thine heart shall be tangled: but the queen and the
hand thou shalt know.
When we twain are wise together; thou shalt know of the sword and the
wood,
Thou shalt know of the wild-wolves' howling and thy right-hand wet
with blood,
When the day of the smith is ended, and the stithy's fire dies out,
And the work of the master of masters through the feast-hall goeth
about."

They stand apart by the high-seat, and each on each they gaze
As though they forgat the summer, and the tide of the passing days,
And abode the deeds unborn and the Kings' deaths yet to be,
As the merchant bideth deedless the gold in his ships on the sea.

At last spake the wise-heart Brynhild: "O glorious Niblung child!
The dreams and the word we have hearkened, and the dreams and the
word have been wild.
Thou hast thy life and thy summer, and the love is drawing anear;
Take these to thine heart to cherish, and deem them good and dear,
Lest the Norns should mock our knowledge and cast our fame aside,
And our doom be empty of glory as the hopeless that have died.
Farewell, O Niblung Maiden! for day on day shall come
Whilst thou shalt live rejoicing mid the blossom of thine home.
Now have thou thanks for thy greeting and thy glory that I have seen;
And come thou again to Lymdale while the summer-ways are green."

So the hall-dusk deepens upon them till the candles come arow,
And they drink the wine of departing and gird themselves to go;
And they dight the dark-blue raiment and climb to the wains aloft
While the horned moon hangs in the heaven and the summer wind blows
soft.
Then the yoke-beasts strained at the collar, and the dust in the moon
arose,
And they brushed the side of the acre and the blooming dewy close;
Till at last, when the moon was sinking and the night was waxen late,
The warders of the earl-folk looked forth from the Niblung gate,
And saw the gold pale-gleaming, and heard the wain-wheels crush
The weary dust of the summer amidst the midnight hush.

So came the daughter of Giuki