noontide is the Niblung host embayed,
And betwixt the sheltering nesses the ocean-wind is laid:
No whit they brook delaying: but their noblest and their best
Toss up the shaven oar-blades, and toil and mock at rest:
Full swift they skim the swan-mead till the tall masts quake and reel,
And the oaken sea-burgs quiver from bulwark unto keel.
It is Gunnar goes the foremost with the tiller in his hand,
And beside him standeth Knefrud and laughs on Atli's land:
And so fair are the dragons driven, that by ending of the day
On the beach by the ebb left naked the sea-beat keels they lay:
Then they look aloft from the foreshore, and lo, King Atli's steeds
On the brow of the mirk-wood standing, well dight for the warriors'
needs,
The red and the roan together, and the dapple-grey and the black;
Nor bits nor silken bridles, nor golden cloths they lack,
And the horse-lads of King Atli with that horse-array are blent,
And their shout of salutation o'er the oozy sand is sent:
Then no more will the Niblungs tarry when they see that ready band
But they leap adown from the long-ships, and waist-deep they wade the
strand,
And they in their armour of onset, beshielded, and sword by the side,
E'en as men returning homeward to their loves and their friends that
abide.
The first of all goeth Gunnar, and Hogni the wise cometh after,
And wringeth the sea from his kirtle; and all men hearken his laughter,
As his feet on the earth stand firm, and the sun in the west goeth
down,
And the Niblungs stand on the foreshore 'twixt the sea and the
mirk-wood brown.

For no meat there they linger, and they tarry for no sleep,
But aloft to the golden saddles those Giuki's children leap,
And forth from the side of the sea-flood they ride the mirk-wood's
ways,
Loud then is the voice of King Hogni and he sets forth Atli's praise,
As they ride through the night of the tree-boughs till the earthly
night prevails,
And along the desert sea-strand the wind of ocean wails.

There none hath tethered the dragons, or inboard handled the oars,
And the tide of the sea cometh creeping along the stranger-shores,
Till those golden dragons are floated, and their unmanned oars awash
In the sandy waves of the shallows, from stem to tiller clash:
Then setteth a wind from the shore, and the night