beams rose higher and higher, and white grew the Niblung wall,
And the spears on the ramparts glistered and the windows blazed withal,
And the sunlight flooded the courts, and throughout the chambers
streamed:
Then bright as the flames of the heaven the Helm of Aweing gleamed,
Then clashed the red rings of the Treasure, as Sigurd stood on his
feet,
And went through the echoing chambers, as the winds in the wall-nook
beat;
And there in the earliest morning while the lords of the Niblungs lie
'Twixt light sleep and awakening they hear the clash go by,
And their dreams are of happy battle, and the songs that follow fame,
And the hope of the Gods accomplished, and the tales of the ancient
name,
Ere Sigurd came to the Niblungs and faced their gathered foes.
But on to the chamber of Brynhild alone in the morning he goes,
And the sun lieth broad across it, and the door is open wide
As the last of the women had left it; then he lifted his voice and
cried:

"Awake, arise, O Brynhild! for the house is smitten through
With the light of the sun awakened, and the hope of deeds to do."

She spake: "Art thou come to behold me? thou, the mightiest and the
worst
Of the pitiless betrayers, that the hope of my life hath nursed."

He said: "It is I that awake thee, and I give thee the life and the
days
For fulfilling the deedful measure, and the cup of the people's
praise."

She cried: "O the gifts of Sigurd!--Ah why didst thou cast me aside,
That we twain should be dwelling, the strangers, in the house of the
Niblung pride?
What life is the death in life? what deeds--where the shame cometh up
Betwixt the speech of the wise-ones and the draught of the welcoming
cup;
And the shame and repentance awaketh when the song in the harp is
awake?
Where we rise in the morning for nothing, and lie down for no love's
sake?
Where thou ridest forth to the battle and the dead hope dulleth thy
light,
And with shame thy hand is cumbered when the sword is uplifted to
smite?
O Sigurd, what hast thou done, that the gifts are cast aback?
--O nay, no life of repentance!--but the bitter sword and the wrack!"

"O Brynhild, live!" said the Volsung, "for what shall the world be then
When thou from the earth art departed, and the hallowed hearths of