Amidst of friends and kinsmen rode Siegfried the hero-thane;
And beside him the Daughter of Princes mid dreams of gladness rode:
—Ah me, sore grief lay ambushed by the path that their horses trode!
But the little child of Siegfried, but Kriemhild’s darling one,
Safe in the home-land left they; of need must it so be done.
Begotten for him of their journey was bitter affliction and sore.
Strong father and lovely mother that child saw never more!
Beside them went forth riding Siegmund the ancient king.
Ah, had his heart foreboded what sorrow was doomed to spring
For him of that festal high-tide, he had never looked thereon!