h the last load
home.

(P. 56.)

When the great hero dies, Morris puts into his mouth another of the
magnificent speeches that are the glory of this poem. Four lines from it
must suffice:

When the gods for one deed asked me I ever gave them twain;
Spendthrift of glory I was, and great was my life-day's gain.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Our wisdom and valour have kissed, and thine eyes shall see the fruit,
And the joy for his days that shall be hath pierced my heart to the
root.

(P. 62.)

It appears from this study of Book I that _Sigurd the Volsung_ has
adapted the saga story to our civilization and our art, holding to the
best of the old and supplementing it by new that is ever in keeping with
the old. Other instances of this eclectic habit may be seen in the other
three books, but we shall quote from these for other purposes.

Book II is entitled "Regin." "Now this is the first book of the life and
death of Sigurd the Volsung, and therein is told of the birth of him,
and of his dealings with Regin the Master of Masters, and of his deeds
in the waste places of the earth."

Morris was deeply read in Old Norse literature, and out of his stores of
knowledge he brought vivifying details for this poem. Such, for
instance, is the description of Sigurd's eyes, not found just here in
the saga:

In the bed there lieth a man-child, and his eyes look straight on
the sun.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Yet they shrank in their rejoicing before the eyes of the child.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

In the naming of the child by an ancient name, the meaning of that name
is indicated:

O _Sigurd_, Son of the Volsungs, O Victory yet to be!

The festivities over the birth of the child are wonderfully described
in the brief lines, and they are a picture out of another book than the
saga:

Earls think of marvellous stories, and along the golden strings
Flit words of banded brethren and names of war-fain Kings.

Over and over again in this poem Morris records the Icelanders' desire
"to leave a tale to tell," and here are Sigurd's words to Regin who has
been egging him on to deeds:

Yet I know that the world is wide, and filled with deeds unwrought;
And for e'en such work was I fashioned, lest the songcraft come to