he face without a smile;
And the tumult of their triumph and the wordless mingled roar
Went forth from that hall of the Eastlands and smote the heavenly
floor.

At last spake Atli the mighty: "Stand up, thou war-won thrall,
Whom they that were once the Niblungs did once King Gunnar call!"

From the dust they dragged up Gunnar, and set him on his feet,
And the heart within him was living and the pride for a war-king meet;
And his glory was nothing abated, and fair he seemed and young,
As the first of the Cloudy Kings, fresh shoot from the sower sprung.
But Atli looked upon him, and a smile smoothed out his brow
As he said: "What thoughtest thou, Gunnar, when thou layst in the dust
e'en now?"

He said: "Of Valhall I thought, and the host of my fathers' land,
And of Hogni that thou hast slaughtered, and my brother Sigurd's hand."

Said Atli: "Think of thy life, and the days that shall be yet,
And thyself, maybe, as aforetime, in the throne of thy father set."

"O Eastland liar," said Gunnar, "no more will I live and rue."

Said Atli: "The word I have spoken, thy word may yet make true."

"I weary of speech," said the Niblung, "with those that are lesser
than I."

"Yet words of mine shalt thou hearken," said Atli, "or ever thou die."

"So crieth the fool," said Gunnar, "on the God that his folly hath
slain."

Said Atli: "Forth shall my word, nor yet shall be gathered again."

"Yet meeter were thy silence; for thy folk make ready to sing."

"O Gunnar, I long for the Gold with the heart and the will of a king."

"This were good to tell," said Gunnar, "to the Gods that fashioned the
earth!"

"Make me glad with the Gold," said Atli, "live on in honour and worth!"

With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: "O fool, hast thou heard it told
Who won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold?
It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth from the
best:
He rode from the North and the mountains and became my summer-guest.
My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire
And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire;
The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong,
The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong:
Ah, oft in the world henceforward shall the tale be told of the deed,
And