And the head of that Daughter of Princes from her shoulders his brand hath swept.
With horror she saw him before her like the Spirit of Vengeance rise.
What availed her shriek of anguish as the death-flame flashed in her eyes?
Dead all round were they lying, the men foredoomed death’s prey:
Hewn in twain in the midmost of all a dead Queen lay!
Dietrich and King Etzel into sudden weeping broke,
And a bitter voice of wailing went up from all the folk.
There was the might and the glory of heroes in death laid low;
And the people had for their portion lamentation and mourning and woe.
This was the dolorous ending of a great king’s festival!