porch,
And the moon through the broken rafters be the Niblungs' feastful
torch!"

Glad they cried on the glorious Gunnar; for they saw the love in his
eyes,
And with joy and wine were they drunken, and his words passed over the
wise,
As oft o'er the garden lilies goes the rising thunder-wind,
And they know no other summer, and no spring that was they mind.

But Hogni speaketh to Knefrud: "Lo, Gunnar's word is said:
How fares it, lord, with Gudrun? remembereth she the dead?"

Then the liar laughed out and answered: "Ye shall go tomorrow morn;
The man to turn back Gunnar shall never now be born:
Each day-spring the white Gudrun on Sigurd's glory cries,
All eves she wails on Sigurd when the fair sun sinks and dies!"

"Thou sayest sooth," said Hogni, "one day we twain shall wend
To the gate of the Eastland Atli, that our tale may have an end.
Long time have I looked for the journey, and marvelled at the day,
With what eyes I shall look on Sigurd, what words his mouth shall say."

Then he raiseth the cup for Gunnar, and men see his glad face shine
As he crieth hail and glory o'er the bubbles of the wine;
And they drink to the lives of the brethren, and men of the latter
earth
May not think of the height of their hall-glee, or measure out their
mirth:
So they feast in the undark even to the midmost of the night.
Till at last, with sleep unwearied, they weary with delight,
And pass forth to the beds blue-covered, and leave the hearth acold:
They sleep; in the hall grown silent scarce glimmereth now the gold:
For the moon from the world is departed, and grey clouds draw across,
To hide the dawn's first promise and deepen earthly loss.
The lone night draws to its death, and never another shall fall
On those sons of the feastful warriors in the Niblungs' holy hall.

_How the Niblungs fare to the Land of King Atli._

Now when the house was silent, and all men in slumber lay,
And yet two hours were lacking of the dawning-tide of day,
The sons of his foster-mother doth the heart-wise Hogni find;
In the dead night, speaking softly, he showeth them his mind,
And they wake and hearken and heed him, and arise from the bolster
blue,
Nor aught do their stout hearts falter at the deed he bids them do.
So he and they go softly while all men slumber and sl