The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs by William Morris (books for 7th graders txt) 📖
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is clad in purple and pall,
And he goeth forth from the chamber and meeteth his earls in the hall
A king full great and mighty, if a great king ever hath been;
And over his head on the high-seat still sitteth Gudrun the Queen.
And he goeth forth from the chamber and meeteth his earls in the hall
A king full great and mighty, if a great king ever hath been;
And over his head on the high-seat still sitteth Gudrun the Queen.
Then he said: "Whence come ye, children? whence come ye, Lords of the East?
Shall today be for evil and mourning or a day of joyance and feast?"
Shall today be for evil and mourning or a day of joyance and feast?"
They said: "Today shall be wailing for the foes of the Eastland kin;
But for them that love King Atli shall the day of feasts begin:
For we come from the land deserted, and the heath without a way,
And now are the earth's folk telling of the Niblungs passed away."
But for them that love King Atli shall the day of feasts begin:
For we come from the land deserted, and the heath without a way,
And now are the earth's folk telling of the Niblungs passed away."
Then King Atli turned unto Gudrun, and the new sun shone through the door,
The long beams fell from the mountains and lighted Atli's floor:
Then he cried: "Lo, the day-light, Gudrun! and the Cloudy Folk is gone;
There is glory now in the Eastland, and thy lord is king alone."
The long beams fell from the mountains and lighted Atli's floor:
Then he cried: "Lo, the day-light, Gudrun! and the Cloudy Folk is gone;
There is glory now in the Eastland, and thy lord is king alone."
But Gudrun rose from the high-seat, and her eyes on the King she turned;
And he stood rejoicing before her, and his crown in the sunlight burned,
With the golden gear was he swaddled, and he held the red-gold rod
That the Kings of the East had carried since first they came from God:
Down she came, and men kept silence, and the earls beheld her face,
As her raiment rustled about her in the morning-joyous place:
[Pg 339]So she stood amidst of the sun-beams, by King Atli's board she stood,
And men looked and wondered at her, would she speak them ill or good:
She wept not, and she sighed not, nor smiled in the stranger land,
But she stood before King Atli, and the cup was in her hand.
And he stood rejoicing before her, and his crown in the sunlight burned,
With the golden gear was he swaddled, and he held the red-gold rod
That the Kings of the East had carried since first they came from God:
Down she came, and men kept silence, and the earls beheld her face,
As her raiment rustled about her in the morning-joyous place:
[Pg 339]So she stood amidst of the sun-beams, by King Atli's board she stood,
And men looked and wondered at her, would she speak them ill or good:
She wept not, and she sighed not, nor smiled in the stranger land,
But she stood before King Atli, and the cup was in her hand.
Then she spake: "Take, King, and drink it! for earth's mightiest men prevail,
And to thee is the praise and the glory, and the ending of the tale:
There are men to the dead land faring, but the dark o'er their heads is deep,
They cry not, they return not, and no more renown they reap;
But we do our will without them, nor fear their speech or frown;
And glad shall be our uprising, and light our lying-down."
And to thee is the praise and the glory, and the ending of the tale:
There are men to the dead land faring, but the dark o'er their heads is deep,
They cry not, they return not, and no more renown they reap;
But we do our will without them, nor fear their speech or frown;
And glad shall be our uprising, and light our lying-down."
She said: "A maid of maidens my mother reared me erst;
By the side of the glorious Gunnar my early days were nursed;
By the side of the heart-wise Hogni I went from field to flower,
Joy rose with the sun's uprising, nor sank in the twilight hour;
Kings looked and laughed upon us as we played with the golden toy:
And oft our hands were meeting as we mingled joy with joy."
By the side of the glorious Gunnar my early days were nursed;
By the side of the heart-wise Hogni I went from field to flower,
Joy rose with the sun's uprising, nor sank in the twilight hour;
Kings looked and laughed upon us as we played with the golden toy:
And oft our hands were meeting as we mingled joy with joy."
More she spake: "O King command me! for women's knees are weak,
And their feet are little steadfast, and their hands for comfort seek:
On the earth the blossom falleth when the branch is dried with day,
And the vine to the elm-bough clingeth when men smite the roots away."
And their feet are little steadfast, and their hands for comfort seek:
On the earth the blossom falleth when the branch is dried with day,
And the vine to the elm-bough clingeth when men smite the roots away."
Then drank the Eastland Atli as he looked in Gudrun's face,
And beheld no wrath against him, and no hate of the coming days;
Then he spake: "O mighty woman, this day the feast shall be
For the heritance of Atli, and the gain of mine and me:
For this day the Eastland people such great dominion win,
That a world to their will new-fashioned 'neath their glory shall begin.
Yet, since the mighty are fallen, and kings are gone from earth,
Let these at the feast be remembered, and their ancient deeds of worth.
So I bid thee, O King's Daughter, sit by Atli at the feast,
[Pg 340]To praise thy kin departed and Atli's weal increased;
And the heirship-feast and the death-feast today shall be as one;
And then shalt thou wake tomorrow with all thy mourning done,
And all thy will accomplished, and thy glory great and sure.
That for ever and for ever shall the tale thereof endure."
And beheld no wrath against him, and no hate of the coming days;
Then he spake: "O mighty woman, this day the feast shall be
For the heritance of Atli, and the gain of mine and me:
For this day the Eastland people such great dominion win,
That a world to their will new-fashioned 'neath their glory shall begin.
Yet, since the mighty are fallen, and kings are gone from earth,
Let these at the feast be remembered, and their ancient deeds of worth.
So I bid thee, O King's Daughter, sit by Atli at the feast,
[Pg 340]To praise thy kin departed and Atli's weal increased;
And the heirship-feast and the death-feast today shall be as one;
And then shalt thou wake tomorrow with all thy mourning done,
And all thy will accomplished, and thy glory great and sure.
That for ever and for ever shall the tale thereof endure."
He spake in the sunny morning, and Gudrun answered and said:
"Thou hast bidden me feast, O Atli, and thy will shall be obeyed:
And well I thank thee, great-one, for the gifts thine hand would give;
For who shall gainsay the mighty, and the happy Kings that live?
Thou hast swallowed the might of the Niblungs, and their glory lieth in thee:
Live long, and cherish thy wealth, that the world may wonder and see!"
"Thou hast bidden me feast, O Atli, and thy will shall be obeyed:
And well I thank thee, great-one, for the gifts thine hand would give;
For who shall gainsay the mighty, and the happy Kings that live?
Thou hast swallowed the might of the Niblungs, and their glory lieth in thee:
Live long, and cherish thy wealth, that the world may wonder and see!"
Therewith to the bower of queens the Niblung wendeth her way,
And in all the glory of women the folk her body array:
Forth she comes with the crown on her head and the ivory rod in her hand,
With queens for her waiting-women, and the hope of many a land:
There she goes in that wonder of houses when the high-tide of Atli is dight,
And her face is as fair as the sea, and her eyen are glittering bright.
And in all the glory of women the folk her body array:
Forth she comes with the crown on her head and the ivory rod in her hand,
With queens for her waiting-women, and the hope of many a land:
There she goes in that wonder of houses when the high-tide of Atli is dight,
And her face is as fair as the sea, and her eyen are glittering bright.
By Atli's side she sitteth, o'er the earls they twain are set,
And shields of the ancient wise-ones on the wall are hanging yet,
And the golden sun of the roof-sky, the sun of Atli's pride,
Through the beams where day but glimmers casts red light far and wide:
The beakers clash thereunder, the red wine murmureth speech,
And the eager long-beard warriors cast praises each to each
Of the blossoming tree of the Eastland:—and tomorrow shall be as today,
Yea, even more abundant, and all foes have passed away.
And shields of the ancient wise-ones on the wall are hanging yet,
And the golden sun of the roof-sky, the sun of Atli's pride,
Through the beams where day but glimmers casts red light far and wide:
The beakers clash thereunder, the red wine murmureth speech,
And the eager long-beard warriors cast praises each to each
Of the blossoming tree of the Eastland:—and tomorrow shall be as today,
Yea, even more abundant, and all foes have passed away.
It was then in the noon-tide moment; o'er the earth high hung the sun,
When the song o'er the mighty Niblungs in a stranger-house was begun,
And their deeds were told by the foemen, and the names of hope they had
Rang sweet in the hall of the murder to make King Atli glad:
[Pg 341]It is little after the noon-tide when thereof they sing no more,
Nor tell of the strife that has been, and the leaping flames of war,
And the vengeance lulled for ever and the wrath that shall never awake:
For where is the kin of Hogni, and who liveth for Gunnar's sake?
When the song o'er the mighty Niblungs in a stranger-house was begun,
And their deeds were told by the foemen, and the names of hope they had
Rang sweet in the hall of the murder to make King Atli glad:
[Pg 341]It is little after the noon-tide when thereof they sing no more,
Nor tell of the strife that has been, and the leaping flames of war,
And the vengeance lulled for ever and the wrath that shall never awake:
For where is the kin of Hogni, and who liveth for Gunnar's sake?
So men in the hall make merry, nor note the afternoon,
And the time when men grow weary with the task that ends not soon;
The sun falls down unnoted, and night and her daughter are nigh,
And a dull grey mist and awful hangeth over the east of the sky,
And spreadeth, though winds are sleeping, and riseth higher and higher;
But the clouds hang high in the west as a sea of rippling fire,
That the face of the gazer is lighted, if unto the west ye gaze,
And white walls in the lonely meadows grow ruddy under the blaze;
Yet brighter e'en than the cloud-sea, far-off and clear serene,
Mid purple clouds unlitten the light lift lieth between;
And who looks, save the lonely shepherd on the brow of the houseless hill,
Who hath many a day seen no man to tell him of good or of ill?
And the time when men grow weary with the task that ends not soon;
The sun falls down unnoted, and night and her daughter are nigh,
And a dull grey mist and awful hangeth over the east of the sky,
And spreadeth, though winds are sleeping, and riseth higher and higher;
But the clouds hang high in the west as a sea of rippling fire,
That the face of the gazer is lighted, if unto the west ye gaze,
And white walls in the lonely meadows grow ruddy under the blaze;
Yet brighter e'en than the cloud-sea, far-off and clear serene,
Mid purple clouds unlitten the light lift lieth between;
And who looks, save the lonely shepherd on the brow of the houseless hill,
Who hath many a day seen no man to tell him of good or of ill?
Day dies, and the storm-threats perish, and the stars to the heaven are come,
And the white moon climbeth upward and hangs o'er the Eastland home;
But no man in the hall of King Atli shall heed the heavens without,
For Atli's roof is their heaven, and thereto they cast the shout,
And this, the glory they builded, is become their God to praise,
The hope of their generations, the giver of goodly days:
No more they hearken the harp-strings, no more they hearken the song;
All the might of the deedful Niblungs is a tale forgotten long,
And yester-morning's murder is as though it ne'er had been;
They heed not the white-armed Gudrun, the glorious Stranger-Queen,
They heed not Atli triumphant, for they also, they are Kings,
They are brethren of the God-folk and the fashioners of things;
Nay, the Gods,—and the Gods have sorrow, and these shall rue no more,
These world-kings, these prevailers, these beaters-down of war:
What golden house shall hold them, what nightless shadowless heaven?
[Pg 342]—So they feast in the hall of Atli, and that eve is the first of the seven.
And the white moon climbeth upward and hangs o'er the Eastland home;
But no man in the hall of King Atli shall heed the heavens without,
For Atli's roof is their heaven, and thereto they cast the shout,
And this, the glory they builded, is become their God to praise,
The hope of their generations, the giver of goodly days:
No more they hearken the harp-strings, no more they hearken the song;
All the might of the deedful Niblungs is a tale forgotten long,
And yester-morning's murder is as though it ne'er had been;
They heed not the white-armed Gudrun, the glorious Stranger-Queen,
They heed not Atli triumphant, for they also, they are Kings,
They are brethren of the God-folk and the fashioners of things;
Nay, the Gods,—and the Gods have sorrow, and these shall rue no more,
These world-kings, these prevailers, these beaters-down of war:
What golden house shall hold them, what nightless shadowless heaven?
[Pg 342]—So they feast in the hall of Atli, and that eve is the first of the seven.
So they feast, and weary, and know not how weary they are grown,
As they stretch out hands to gather where their hands have never sown;
They are drunken with wine and with folly, and the hope they would bring to pass
Of the mirth no man may compass, and the joy that never was,
Till their heads hang heavy with slumber, and their hands from the wine-cup fail,
And blind stray their hands in the harp-strings and their mouths may tell no tale.
As they stretch out hands to gather where their hands have never sown;
They are drunken with wine and with folly, and the hope they would bring to pass
Of the mirth no man may compass, and the joy that never was,
Till their heads hang heavy with slumber, and their hands from the wine-cup fail,
And blind stray their hands in the harp-strings and their mouths may tell no tale.
Now the throne of Atli is empty, low lieth the world-king's head
Mid the woven gold and the purple, and the dreams of Atli's bed,
And Gudrun lieth beside him as the true by the faithful and kind,
And every foe is departed, and no fear is left behind:
Lo, lo, the rest of the night-tide for which all kings would long,
And all warriors of the people that have fought with fear and wrong.
Mid the woven gold and the purple, and the dreams of Atli's bed,
And Gudrun lieth beside him as the true by the faithful and kind,
And every foe is departed, and no fear is left behind:
Lo, lo, the rest of the night-tide for which all kings would long,
And all warriors of the people that have fought with fear and wrong.
Yet a while;—it was but an hour and the moon was hung so high,
As it seemed that the silent night-tide would never change and die;
But lo, how the dawn comes stealing o'er the mountains of the east,
And dim grows Atli's roof-sun o'er yestereven's feast;
Dim yet in the treasure-houses lie the ancient heaps of gold,
But slowly come the colours to the Dwarf-wrought rings of old:
Yet a while; and the day-light lingers: yea, yea, is it darker than erst?
Hath the day into night-tide drifted, the day by the twilight nursed?
Are the clouds in the house of King Atli? Or what shines brighter that morn,
In helms and shields of the ancient, and swords by dead kings borne?
Have the heavens come down to Atli? Hath his house been lifted on high,
Lest the pride of the triumphing World-King should fade in the world and die?
As it seemed that the silent night-tide would never change and die;
But lo, how the dawn comes stealing o'er the mountains of the east,
And dim grows Atli's roof-sun o'er yestereven's feast;
Dim yet in the treasure-houses lie the ancient heaps of gold,
But slowly come the colours to the Dwarf-wrought rings of old:
Yet a while; and the day-light lingers: yea, yea, is it darker than erst?
Hath the day into night-tide drifted, the day by the twilight nursed?
Are the clouds in the house of King Atli? Or what shines brighter that morn,
In helms and shields of the ancient, and swords by dead kings borne?
Have the heavens come down to Atli? Hath his house been lifted on high,
Lest the pride of the triumphing World-King should fade in the world and die?
Lo, lo, in the hall of the Murder where the white-armed Gudrun stands,
Aloft by the kingly high-seat, and nought empty are her hands;
For the litten brand she beareth, and the grinded war-sword bare:
Still she stands for a little season till day groweth white and fair
[Pg 343]Without the garth of King Atli; but within, a wavering cloud
Rolls, hiding the roof and the roof-sun; then she stirreth and crieth aloud:
Aloft by the kingly high-seat, and nought empty are her hands;
For the litten brand she beareth, and the grinded war-sword bare:
Still she stands for a little season till day groweth white and fair
[Pg 343]Without the garth of King Atli; but within, a wavering cloud
Rolls, hiding the roof and the roof-sun; then she stirreth and crieth aloud:
"Alone was I yestereven: and alone in the night I lay,
And I thought on the ancient fathers, and longed for the dawning of day:
Then I rose from the bed of the Eastlands; to the Holy Hearth I went;
And lo, how the brands were abiding the hand of mine intent!
Then I caught them up with wisdom, with care I bore them forth,
And I laid them amidst of the treasures and dear
And I thought on the ancient fathers, and longed for the dawning of day:
Then I rose from the bed of the Eastlands; to the Holy Hearth I went;
And lo, how the brands were abiding the hand of mine intent!
Then I caught them up with wisdom, with care I bore them forth,
And I laid them amidst of the treasures and dear
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