But long since had the hero Siegfried from the Bower of Slain Hate hied
To the welcoming arms of the lovely, to the lips of a waiting bride.
Lightly he put by questions that trembled on her tongue;
And he kept those victory-trophies hidden from sight full long,
Until to his Queen in his kingdom he gave, afar and late,
The Gifts of Doom—how little availeth to strive with fate!
That King on the morrow’s dawning far blither was of cheer
Than yestermorn: through the marches of his kingdom far and near
High swelled the tides of joyance in stately homes and fair;
And the guests to the palace bidden rendered him homage there.