king craveth our coming, and no more shall he be gainsayed:
We will go to look on Atli, though the Gods and the Goths forbid;
Nought worse than death meseemeth on the Niblungs' path is hid,
And this shall the high Gods see to, but I to the Niblung name,
And the day of deeds to accomplish, and the gathering-in of fame."

Up he stood with the bowl in his right-hand, and mighty and great he
was,
And he cried: "Now let the beakers adown the benches pass;
Let us drink dear draughts and glorious, though the last farewell it
be,
And this draught that I drink have sundered my father's house and me."

He drank, and all men drank with him, and the hearts of the Earls
arose,
As of them that snatch forth glory from the deadly wall of foes:
With the joy of life were they drunken and no man knew for why,
And the voice of their exultation rose up in an awful cry;
--It is joy in the mouths that utter, it is hope in the hearts that
crave,
And think of no gainsaying, and remember nought to save;
But without the women hearken, and the hearts within them sink;
And they say: What then betideth that our lords forbear to drink,
And wail and weep in the night-tide and cry the Gods to aid?
Why then are the Kings tormented, and the warriors' hearts afraid?

Then the deadened sound sweeps landward, and the hearts of the
field-folk fail,
And they say: Is there death in the Burg, that thence goeth the cry and
the wail?
Lo, lo, the feast-hall's windows! blood-red through the dark they
shine:
Why is weeping the song of the Niblungs, and blood the warrior's wine?

But therein are the torches tossing, and the shields of men upborne,
And the death-blades yet unbloodied cast up 'twixt bowl and horn,
And all rest of heart is departed as men speak of the mirk-wood's ways,
And the fame of outland countries, and the green sea's troublous days.

But Gunnar arose o'er the people, as a mighty King he spake:
"O ye of the house of Giuki that are joyous for my sake,
What then shall be left to the Niblungs if we return no more?
Then let the wolves be warders of the Niblungs' gathered store!
On the hearth let the worm creep over where the fire now flares aloft!
And the adder coil in the chambers where the Niblung wives sleep soft!
Let the master of the pine-wood roll huge in the Niblung