I will none of love nor of sorrow, I abide in my bliss alone.”
So Kriemhild in pride of her spirit was a rebel to Lord Love’s sway;
And her heart-peace flowed as a river through many a sunlit day;
And she looked upon earls and champions, but none might the heart of her move:
Yet her hour drew near, and the breaking of the glory-dawn of love.
For in flight even now was the Falcon, the fulfilment drew nigh and nigher
Of the dream half read of her mother—but woe for the vengeance-hire
That she paid to the eagles that slew him, her own blood-brethren they!
Woe for the sons of women untold whom his death should slay!