LXI
"I'm now," pursued Sir Hagan, "beset with grievous care;
The shield that Lady Gotelind gave me late to bear,
Is hewn and all-to broken by many a Hunnish brand.
I brought it fair and friendly hither to Etzel's land.
LXII
"Ah! that to me this favor heaven would be pleas'd to yield
That I might to defend me bear so well-prov'd a shield,
As that, right noble Rudeger, before thee now display'd!
No more should I in battle need then the hauberk's aid."
LXIII
"Fain with the same I'd serve thee to th' height of thy desire,
But that I fear, such proffer might waken Kriemhild's ire.
Still, take it to thee, Hagan, and wield it well in hand.
Ah! might'st thou bring it with thee to thy Burgundian land!"
LXIV
While thus with words so courteous so fair a gift he sped,
The eyes of many a champion with scalding tears were red.
'Twas the last gift, that buckler, e'er given to comrade dear
By the Lord of Bechlaren, the blameless Rudeger.
LXV
However stern was Hagan, and of unyielding mood,
Still at the gift he melted, which one so great and good
Gave in his last few moments, e'en on the eve of fight,
And with the stubborn warrior mourn'd many a noble knight.