He drew her helmet close over her eyes, and laid her shield upon her breast.
The flowers went to sleep.
Brunhilde's noble steed lay down and slept.
"Farewell, my child, most brave and beautiful!
Thou life and light of all my heart, farewell!
Pride of my soul, farewell, a long farewell!"
The Magic Fire
Wotan strode a few steps away from where Brunhilde slept, then struck the rock with his mighty spear.
Red flames shot up, leaping almost to the sky. They were magic flames and would not harm any one.
But they looked like real fire, and none but a hero would dare go into them.