Then flashed and flickered above them the dancing glaives of war,
Till at last by the grim guests slaughtered one and all they lay.
Well may bards sing the wonders of Burgundia’s vengeance-day!
Then suddenly died the tumult, there was silence in that hall,
Save the sound of the blood-streams pouring through the channels in the wall
And rushing without down the rain-shutes, the blood of knightly foes
Slain by the men of Rhineland with their swords’ resistless blows.
Then sat them down war-weary the sons of Burgundia-land:
Dropped was the massy buckler and the sword from the red right hand.
Yet standing before the doorway did the valiant minstrel stay,