So speaketh the Maid of the Niblungs, and speech her lips doth fail,
And she gazeth on Brynhild's visage, and seeth her waxen pale,
As she saith: "'Tis a dream full goodly, and nought hast thou to fear;
Some glory of Kings shall love thee and thine heart shall hold him dear."
Again spake the daughter of Giuki: "Not yet hast thou hearkened all:
For meseemed my breast was reddened, as oft by the purple and pall,
But my heart was heavy within it, and I laid my hand thereon,
And the purple of blood enwrapped me, and the falcon I loved was gone."
Yet pale was the visage of Brynhild, and she said: "Is it then so strange
That the wedding-lords of the Niblungs their lives in the battle should change?
Thou shalt wed a King and be merry, and then shall come the sword,
And the edges of hate shall be whetted and shall slay thy love and thy lord,
And dead on thy breast shall he fall: and where then is the measureless moan?
From the first to the last shalt thou have him, and scarce shall he die alone.
Rejoice, O daughter of Giuki! there is worse in the world than this:
He shall die, and thou shalt remember the days of his glory and bliss."
"I woke, and I wept," said Gudrun, "for the dear thing I had loved:
Then I slept, and again as aforetime were the gates of the dream-hall moved,
And I went in the land of shadows; and lo I was crowned as a queen,
And I sat in the summer-season amidst my garden green;
And there came a hart from the forest, and in noble wise he went,
And bold he was to look on, and of fashion excellent
Before all beasts of the wild-wood; and fair gleamed that glorious-one,
And upreared his shining antlers against the very sun.
So he came unto me and I loved him, and his head lay kind on my knees,
And fair methought the summer, and a time of utter peace.
Then darkened all the heavens and dreary grew the tide,
And medreamed that a queen I knew not was sitting by my side,
And from out of the din and the darkness, a hand and an arm there came,
And a golden sleeve was upon it, and red rings of the Queen-folk's fame:
And the hand was the hand of a woman: and there came a sword and a thrust
And the blood of the lovely wood-deer went wide about the dust.
Then I cried aloud in my sorrow, and lo, in the wood I was,
And all around and about me did the kin of the wild-wolves pass.
And I called them friends and kindred, and upreared a battle-brand,
And cried out in a tongue that I knew not, and red and wet was my hand.
Lo now, the dream I have told thee, and nought have I held aback.
O Brynhild, what wilt thou tell me of treason and murder and wrack?"
Long Brynhild stood and pondered and weary-wise was her face,
And she gazed as one who sleepeth, till thus she spake in a space:
"One dream in twain hast thou told, and I see what I saw e'en now,
But beyond is nought but the darkness and the measureless midnight's flow:
Thy dream is all areded; I may tell thee nothing more:
Thou shalt live and love and lose, and mingle in murder and war.
Is it strange, O child of the Niblungs, that thy glory and thy pain
Must be blent with the battle's darkness and the unseen hurrying bane?
Do ye, of all folk on the earth, pray God for the changeless peace,
And not for the battle triumphant and the fruit of fame's increase?
For the rest, thou mayst not be lonely in thy welfare or thy woe,
But hearts with thine heart shall be tangled: but the queen and the hand thou shalt know.
When we twain are wise together; thou shalt know of the sword and the wood,
Thou shalt know of the wild-wolves' howling and thy right-hand wet with blood,
When the day of the smith is ended, and the stithy's fire dies out,
And the work of the master of masters through the feast-hall goeth about."
They stand apart by the high-seat, and each on each they gaze
As though they forgat the summer, and the tide of the passing days,
And abode the deeds unborn and the Kings' deaths yet to be,
As the merchant bideth deedless the gold in his ships on the sea.
At last spake the wise-heart Brynhild: "O glorious Niblung child!
The dreams and the word we have hearkened, and the dreams and the word have been wild.
Thou hast thy life and thy summer, and the love is drawing anear;
Take these to thine heart to cherish, and deem them good and dear,
Lest the Norns should mock our knowledge and cast our fame aside,
And our doom be empty of glory as the hopeless that have died.
Farewell, O Niblung Maiden! for day on day shall come
Whilst thou shalt live rejoicing mid the blossom of thine home.
Now have thou thanks for thy greeting and thy glory that I have seen;
And come thou again to Lymdale while the summer-ways are green."
So the hall-dusk deepens upon them till the candles come arow,
And they drink the wine of departing and gird themselves to go;
And they dight the dark-blue raiment and climb to the wains aloft
While the horned moon hangs in the heaven and the summer wind blows soft.
Then the yoke-beasts strained at the collar, and the dust in the moon arose,
And they brushed the side of the acre and the blooming dewy close;
Till at last, when the moon was sinking and the night was waxen late,
The warders of the earl-folk looked forth from the Niblung gate,
And saw the gold pale-gleaming, and heard the wain-wheels crush
The weary dust of the summer amidst the midnight hush.
So came the daughter of Giuki from the hall of Brynhild the queen
When the days of the Niblungs blossomed and their hope was springing green.