What now availeth thy weeping? My life from my limbs is torn:
Out through the wounds I have gotten it fleeteth fast away.
Death putteth an end to my service of Etzel and thee this day.”
Unto Dane he turned and Thuringian, and bespake that warrior-band:
“The gifts that the Queen hath proffered, take heed that no man’s hand
Be tempted to earn that guerdon of the shining gold and red;
For if ye encounter Hagen, ye shall look on the place of the dead.”
Bloodless-grey was his visage: the tokens of death showed plain
On the brow of the valiant Iring. Their hearts were wrung with pain
For Hawart’s hero-vassal, brave heart for ever stilled!