The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs by William Morris (lightest ebook reader .TXT) 📗
- Author: William Morris
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heavens of the praise of the people fain."
Then Sigurd passed through the hall, and fair was the light of his eyes,
And he came to King Giuki the ancient, and Grimhild the overwise,
And stooped to the elder of days and kissed the war-wise head;
And they loved him passing sore as a very son of their bed.
But he stood in the sight of the people, and sweet he was to see,
And no foe and no betrayer, and no envier now hath he:
But Gunnar the bright in the battle deems him his earthly friend,
And Hogni is fain of his fellow, howso the day's work end,
And Guttorm the young is joyous of the help and gifts he hath;
[Pg 183]And all these would shine beside him in the glory of his path;
There is none to hate or hinder, or mar the golden day,
And the light of love flows plenteous, as the sun-beams hide the way.
And he came to King Giuki the ancient, and Grimhild the overwise,
And stooped to the elder of days and kissed the war-wise head;
And they loved him passing sore as a very son of their bed.
But he stood in the sight of the people, and sweet he was to see,
And no foe and no betrayer, and no envier now hath he:
But Gunnar the bright in the battle deems him his earthly friend,
And Hogni is fain of his fellow, howso the day's work end,
And Guttorm the young is joyous of the help and gifts he hath;
[Pg 183]And all these would shine beside him in the glory of his path;
There is none to hate or hinder, or mar the golden day,
And the light of love flows plenteous, as the sun-beams hide the way.
Now there was the white-armed Gudrun, the lovely Giuki's child,
And her eyes beheld his glory, but her heart was unbeguiled,
And the dear hope fainted in her: I am frail and weak, she saith,
And he so great and glorious with the eyes that look on death!
Yet she comes, and speaks before him as she bears the golden horn:
"The world is glad, O Sigurd, that ever thou wert born,
And I with the world am rejoicing: drink now to the Niblung bliss,
That I, a deedless maiden, may thank thee well for this!"
And her eyes beheld his glory, but her heart was unbeguiled,
And the dear hope fainted in her: I am frail and weak, she saith,
And he so great and glorious with the eyes that look on death!
Yet she comes, and speaks before him as she bears the golden horn:
"The world is glad, O Sigurd, that ever thou wert born,
And I with the world am rejoicing: drink now to the Niblung bliss,
That I, a deedless maiden, may thank thee well for this!"
So he drank of the cup at her bidding and laughed, and said, "Forsooth,
Good-will with the cup is blended, and the very heart of ruth:
Yet meseems thy words are merrier than thine inmost soul this eve;
Nay, cast away thy sorrow, lest the Kings of battle grieve!"
Good-will with the cup is blended, and the very heart of ruth:
Yet meseems thy words are merrier than thine inmost soul this eve;
Nay, cast away thy sorrow, lest the Kings of battle grieve!"
She smiled and departed from him, and there in the cloudy hall
To the feast of their glad returning the Niblung children fall;
And far o'er the flowery lealand the shepherds of the plain
Behold the litten windows, and know that Kings are fain.
To the feast of their glad returning the Niblung children fall;
And far o'er the flowery lealand the shepherds of the plain
Behold the litten windows, and know that Kings are fain.
So fares the tale of Sigurd through all kingdoms of the earth,
And the tale is told of his doings by the utmost ocean's girth;
And fair feast the merchants deem it to warp their sea-beat ships
High up the Niblung River, that their sons may hear his lips
Shed fair words o'er their ladings and the opened southland bales;
Then they get them aback to their countries, and tell how all men's tales
Are nought, and vain and empty in setting forth his grace,
And the unmatched words of his wisdom, and the glory of his face.
Came the wise men too from the outlands, and the lords of singers' fame,
That men might know hereafter the deeds that knew his name;
[Pg 184]And all these to their lands departed, and bore aback his love,
And cherished the tree of his glory, and lived glad in the joy thereof.
And the tale is told of his doings by the utmost ocean's girth;
And fair feast the merchants deem it to warp their sea-beat ships
High up the Niblung River, that their sons may hear his lips
Shed fair words o'er their ladings and the opened southland bales;
Then they get them aback to their countries, and tell how all men's tales
Are nought, and vain and empty in setting forth his grace,
And the unmatched words of his wisdom, and the glory of his face.
Came the wise men too from the outlands, and the lords of singers' fame,
That men might know hereafter the deeds that knew his name;
[Pg 184]And all these to their lands departed, and bore aback his love,
And cherished the tree of his glory, and lived glad in the joy thereof.
But men say that howsoever all other folk of earth
Loved Sigmund's son rejoicing, and were bettered of their mirth,
Yet ever the white-armed Gudrun, the dark-haired Niblung Maid,
From the barren heart of sorrow her love upon him laid:
He rejoiceth, and she droopeth; he speaks and hushed is she;
He beholds the world's days coming, nought but Sigurd may she see;
He is wise and her wisdom falters; he is kind, and harsh and strange
Comes the voice from her bosom laden, and her woman's mercies change.
He longs, and she sees his longing, and her heart grows cold as a sword,
And her heart is the ravening fire, and the fretting sorrows' hoard.
Loved Sigmund's son rejoicing, and were bettered of their mirth,
Yet ever the white-armed Gudrun, the dark-haired Niblung Maid,
From the barren heart of sorrow her love upon him laid:
He rejoiceth, and she droopeth; he speaks and hushed is she;
He beholds the world's days coming, nought but Sigurd may she see;
He is wise and her wisdom falters; he is kind, and harsh and strange
Comes the voice from her bosom laden, and her woman's mercies change.
He longs, and she sees his longing, and her heart grows cold as a sword,
And her heart is the ravening fire, and the fretting sorrows' hoard.
Ah, shall she not wander away to the wilds and the wastes of the deer,
Or down to the measureless sea-flood, and the mountain marish drear?
Nay, still shall she bide and behold him in the ancient happy place,
And speak soft as the other women with wise and queenly face.
Woe worth the while for her sorrow, and her hope of life forlorn!
—Woe worth the while for her loving, and the day when she was born!
Of the Cup of evil drink that Grimhild the Wise-wife gave to Sigurd.
Or down to the measureless sea-flood, and the mountain marish drear?
Nay, still shall she bide and behold him in the ancient happy place,
And speak soft as the other women with wise and queenly face.
Woe worth the while for her sorrow, and her hope of life forlorn!
—Woe worth the while for her loving, and the day when she was born!
Of the Cup of evil drink that Grimhild the Wise-wife gave to Sigurd.
Now again in the latter summer do those Kings of the Niblungs ride
To chase the sons of the plunder that curse the ocean-side:
So over the oaken rollers they run the cutters down
Till fair in the first of the deep are the glittering bows up-thrown;
But, shining wet and steel-clad, men leap from the surfy shore,
And hang their shields on the gunwale, and cast abroad the oar;
Then full to the outer ocean swing round the golden beaks,
And Sigurd sits by the tiller and the host of the spoilers seeks.
But lo, by the rim of the out-sea where the masts of the Vikings sway,
[Pg 185]And their bows plunge down to the sea-floor as they ride the ridgy way,
And show the slant decks covered with swords from stem to stern:
Hark now, how the horns of battle for the clash of warriors yearn,
And the mighty song of mocking goes up from the thousands of throats,
As down the wind and landward the raven-banner floats:
For they see thin streaks and shining o'er the waters' face draw nigh,
And about each streak a foam-wake as the wet oars toss on high;
And they shout; for the silent Niblungs round those great sea-castles throng,
And the eager men unshielded swarm up the heights of wrong.
Then from bulwark unto bulwark the Wrath's flame sings and leaps,
And the unsteered manless dragons drift down the weltering deeps,
And the waves toss up a shield-foam, and hushed are the clamorous throats
And dead in the summer even the raven-banner floats,
And the Niblung song goes upward, as the sea-burgs long accursed
Are swept toward the field-folk's houses, and the shores they saddened erst:
Lo there on the poop stands Sigurd mid the black-haired Niblung kings,
And his heart goes forth before him toward the day of better things,
And the burg in the land of Lymdale, and the hands that bide him there.
To chase the sons of the plunder that curse the ocean-side:
So over the oaken rollers they run the cutters down
Till fair in the first of the deep are the glittering bows up-thrown;
But, shining wet and steel-clad, men leap from the surfy shore,
And hang their shields on the gunwale, and cast abroad the oar;
Then full to the outer ocean swing round the golden beaks,
And Sigurd sits by the tiller and the host of the spoilers seeks.
But lo, by the rim of the out-sea where the masts of the Vikings sway,
[Pg 185]And their bows plunge down to the sea-floor as they ride the ridgy way,
And show the slant decks covered with swords from stem to stern:
Hark now, how the horns of battle for the clash of warriors yearn,
And the mighty song of mocking goes up from the thousands of throats,
As down the wind and landward the raven-banner floats:
For they see thin streaks and shining o'er the waters' face draw nigh,
And about each streak a foam-wake as the wet oars toss on high;
And they shout; for the silent Niblungs round those great sea-castles throng,
And the eager men unshielded swarm up the heights of wrong.
Then from bulwark unto bulwark the Wrath's flame sings and leaps,
And the unsteered manless dragons drift down the weltering deeps,
And the waves toss up a shield-foam, and hushed are the clamorous throats
And dead in the summer even the raven-banner floats,
And the Niblung song goes upward, as the sea-burgs long accursed
Are swept toward the field-folk's houses, and the shores they saddened erst:
Lo there on the poop stands Sigurd mid the black-haired Niblung kings,
And his heart goes forth before him toward the day of better things,
And the burg in the land of Lymdale, and the hands that bide him there.
But now with the spoil of the spoilers mid the Niblungs doth he fare,
When the Kings have dight the beacons and the warders of the coast,
That fire may call to fire for the swift redeeming host.
Then they fare to the Burg of the people, and leave that lealand free
That a maid may wend untroubled by the edges of the sea;
And glad in the autumn season they sit them down again
By the shrines of the Gods of the Niblungs, and the hallowed hearths of men.
When the Kings have dight the beacons and the warders of the coast,
That fire may call to fire for the swift redeeming host.
Then they fare to the Burg of the people, and leave that lealand free
That a maid may wend untroubled by the edges of the sea;
And glad in the autumn season they sit them down again
By the shrines of the Gods of the Niblungs, and the hallowed hearths of men.
So there on an eve is Sigurd in the ancient Niblung hall,
Where the cloudy hangings waver and the flickering shadows fall,
And he sits by the Kings on the high-seat, and wise of men he seems,
And of many a hidden marvel past thought of man he dreams:
On the Head of Hindfell he thinketh, and how fair the woman was,
And how that his love hath blossomed, and the fruit shall come to pass;
[Pg 186]And he thinks of the burg in Lymdale, and how hand met hand in love,
Nor deems him aught too feeble the heart of the world to move;
And more than a God he seemeth, and so steadfast and so great,
That the sea of chance wide-weltering 'neath his will must needs abate.
Where the cloudy hangings waver and the flickering shadows fall,
And he sits by the Kings on the high-seat, and wise of men he seems,
And of many a hidden marvel past thought of man he dreams:
On the Head of Hindfell he thinketh, and how fair the woman was,
And how that his love hath blossomed, and the fruit shall come to pass;
[Pg 186]And he thinks of the burg in Lymdale, and how hand met hand in love,
Nor deems him aught too feeble the heart of the world to move;
And more than a God he seemeth, and so steadfast and so great,
That the sea of chance wide-weltering 'neath his will must needs abate.
High riseth the glee of the people, and the song and the clank of the cup
Beat back from pillar to pillar, to the cloud-blue roof go up;
And men's hearts rejoice in the battle, and the hope of coming days,
Till scarce may they think of their fathers, and the kings of bygone praise.
Beat back from pillar to pillar, to the cloud-blue roof go up;
And men's hearts rejoice in the battle, and the hope of coming days,
Till scarce may they think of their fathers, and the kings of bygone praise.
But Giuki looketh on Sigurd and saith from heart grown fain:
"To sit by the silent wise-one, how mighty is the gain!
Yet we know this long while, Sigurd, that lovely is thy speech;
Wilt thou tell us the tales of the ancient, and the words of masters teach?
For the joy of our hearts is stormy with mighty battles won,
And sweet shall be their lulling with thy tale of deeds agone."
"To sit by the silent wise-one, how mighty is the gain!
Yet we know this long while, Sigurd, that lovely is thy speech;
Wilt thou tell us the tales of the ancient, and the words of masters teach?
For the joy of our hearts is stormy with mighty battles won,
And sweet shall be their lulling with thy tale of deeds agone."
Then they brought the harp to Sigurd, and he looked on the ancient man,
As his hand sank into the strings, and a ripple over them ran,
And he looked forth kind o'er the people, and all men on his glory gazed,
And hearkened, hushed and happy, as the King his voice upraised;
There he sang of the works of Odin, and the hails of the heavenly coast,
And the sons of God uprising, and the Wolflings' gathering host;
And he told of the birth of Rerir, and of Volsung yet unborn,
All the deeds of his father's father, and his battles overworn;
Then he told of Signy and Sigmund, and the changing of their lives;
Tales of great kings' departing, and their kindred and their wives.
But his song and his fond desire go up to the cloudy roof,
And blend with the eagles' shrilling in the windy night aloof.
So he made an end of his story, and he sat and longed full sore
That the days of all his longing as a story might be o'er:
But the wonder of the people, and their love of Sigurd grew,
And green grew the tree of the Volsungs, as the Branstock blossomed anew.
[Pg 187]
As his hand sank into the strings, and a ripple over them ran,
And he looked forth kind o'er the people, and all men on his glory gazed,
And hearkened, hushed and happy, as the King his voice upraised;
There he sang of the works of Odin, and the hails of the heavenly coast,
And the sons of God uprising, and the Wolflings' gathering host;
And he told of the birth of Rerir, and of Volsung yet unborn,
All the deeds of his father's father, and his battles overworn;
Then he told of Signy and Sigmund, and the changing of their lives;
Tales of great kings' departing, and their kindred and their wives.
But his song and his fond desire go up to the cloudy roof,
And blend with the eagles' shrilling in the windy night aloof.
So he made an end of his story, and he sat and longed full sore
That the days of all his longing as a story might be o'er:
But the wonder of the people, and their love of Sigurd grew,
And green grew the tree of the Volsungs, as the Branstock blossomed anew.
[Pg 187]
Now up rose Grimhild the wise-wife, and she stood by Sigurd and said:
"There is none of the kings of kingdoms that may match thy goodlihead:
Lo now, thou hast sung of thy fathers; but men shall sing of thee,
And therewith shall our house be remembered, and great shall our glory be.
I beseech thee hearken a little to a faithful word of mine,
When thou of this cup hast drunken; for my love is blent with the wine."
"There is none of the kings of kingdoms that may match thy goodlihead:
Lo now, thou hast sung of thy fathers; but men shall sing of thee,
And therewith shall our house be remembered, and great shall our glory be.
I beseech thee hearken a little to a faithful word of mine,
When thou of this cup hast drunken; for my love is blent with the wine."
He laughed and took the cup: But therein with the blood of the earth
Earth's hidden might was mingled, and deeds of the cold sea's birth,
And things that the high Gods turn from, and a tangle of strange love,
Deep guile, and strong compelling, that whoso drank thereof
Should remember not his longing, should cast his love away,
Remembering dead desire but as night remembereth day.
Earth's hidden might was mingled, and deeds of the cold sea's birth,
And things that the high Gods turn from, and a tangle of strange love,
Deep guile, and strong compelling, that whoso drank thereof
Should remember not his longing, should cast his love away,
Remembering dead desire but as night remembereth day.
So Sigurd looked on the horn, and he saw how fair it was scored
With the cunning of the Dwarf-kind and the masters of the sword;
And he drank and smiled on Grimhild above the beaker's rim,
And she looked and laughed at his laughter; and the soul was changed in him.
Men gazed and their hearts sank in them, and they knew not why it was,
Why the fair-lit hall was darkling, nor what had come to pass:
For they saw the sorrow of Sigurd, who had seen but
With the cunning of the Dwarf-kind and the masters of the sword;
And he drank and smiled on Grimhild above the beaker's rim,
And she looked and laughed at his laughter; and the soul was changed in him.
Men gazed and their hearts sank in them, and they knew not why it was,
Why the fair-lit hall was darkling, nor what had come to pass:
For they saw the sorrow of Sigurd, who had seen but
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