XXVIII
On the seventh fair morning by Worms along the strand
In knightly guise were pricking the death-defying band.
The ruddy gold fair glitter'd on every riding vest;
Their steeds they meetly govern'd, all pacing soft abreast.
XXIX
Their shields were new and massy and like flame they glow'd,
As bright too shone their helmets, while bold Siegfried rode
Straight to the court of Gunther to woo the stately maid;
Eye never look'd on champions so gorgeously array'd.
XXX
Down to their spurs loud clanging reach'd the swords they wore;
Sharp and well temper'd lances the chosen champions bore.
One, two spans broad or better, did Siegfried sternly shake,
With keen and cutting edges grim and ghastly wounds to make.
XXXI
Their golden-color'd bridles firm they held in hand;
Silken were their pöitrels; so rode they through the land.
On all sides the people to gaze on them began;
Then many of Gunther's liegemen swift to meet them ran.
XXXII
Many a haughty warrior, stout squire, and hardy knight,
Went to receive the strangers as fitting was and right,
And, as to guests high honor'd, did courteous service yield,
Their steeds held as they lighted, and took from each his shield.