Scarce could he tarry till ended was the banquet-festival;
But at last rose Brunhild the lovely, and passed forth out of the hall,
And forth of the feast went Kriemhild; for the slumber-tide was nigh.
What throngs of valiant barons stood up as the Queens swept by!
Now a little while thereafter, as, with Siegfried at her side,
In the joy and trust of the wedded sat Kriemhild his fair bride,
His hands she lovingly folded in her fingers snowy-fair;—
He was gone from her—how, she knew not; but she saw him no more there!
Even now his hand was she fondling—and now she saw him no more!
Then to the train of her handmaids the Queen spake wondering sore: