Happy then were the living; but, never to be healed,
They behind were leaving three hundred dead and dying,
The rich and poor together, slashed with the sword, and pitifully lying.
[546]
Then the war-worn fighters through the land went home;
All who there were dwelling were blithe to see them come:
But the kinsmen of the warriors who in death lay sleeping
Were slow their hearts to gladden; they for kindred slain long time were weeping.
[547]
Hettel and Hilda with him took their homeward way.