If thou draw it not from its sheath.
Worse than a plague is this cursed thing.
Touch not its edges, for poisons cling
Above it and beneath.
Farewell, yet fain would I give to thee
The life that has passed from my brothers and me,
O daughter, 'tis truth I say!
—The strength and vigour and hardihood,
—All that we had that was great and good,
That has vanished and passed away!