Seldom undone she left it, / but thither went alway
In sorry mood where buried / her loved husband lay.
God begged she in his mercy / his soul in charge to keep,
And, to the thane right faithful, / for him full often did she weep.
Ute and her attendants / all times a comfort bore,
But yet her heart was stricken / and wounded all so sore
That no whit might avail it / what solace e'er they brought.
For lover taken from her / with such grief her heart was fraught,
As ne'er for spouse belovéd / a wife did ever show.
Thereby how high in virtue / she stood ye well might know.
She mourned until her ending / and while did last her life.
Anon a mighty vengeance / wreaked the valiant Siegfried's wife.
And so such load of sorrow / for her dead spouse she bore,
The story sayeth truly, / for years full three or more,
Nor ever unto Gunther / any word spake she,
And meantime eke her enemy / Hagen never might she see.
Then spake of Tronje Hagen: / "Now seek'st thou such an end,
That unto thee thy sister / be well-disposéd friend?
Then Nibelungen treasure / let come to this country:
Thereof thou much might'st win thee, / might Kriemhild friendly-minded be."