University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

expand sectionI. 
expand sectionII. 
expand sectionIII, IV, V, VI. 
expand sectionVII. 
expand sectionIX. 
expand sectionX. 
expand sectionXII. 
collapse sectionXIV. 
collapse section 
  
expand sectionII. 
expand sectionIII. 
expand sectionIV. 
expand sectionV. 
expand sectionVI. 
expand sectionVIII. 
expand sectionIX. 
expand sectionXI. 
collapse sectionXIII. 
  
expand sectionXV. 
expand sectionXVI. 
expand sectionXVII. 
expand sectionXIX. 
expand sectionXX. 
expand sectionXXII. 
expand sectionXXVI. 
expand sectionXXVII. 
expand sectionXXVIII. 
expand sectionXXIX. 
expand sectionXXX. 
expand sectionXXXI. 
expand section 
expand sectionXV. 
expand sectionXVI. 
expand sectionXVII. 
expand sectionXXI. 
expand sectionXXIV. 


324

CHAPTER XVII. OF SIGURD'S AVENGING OF SIGMUND HIS FATHER.

[Songs extracted from the prose narrative.]


325

[“Hnikar I hight]

[Hnikar.]
“Hnikar I hight,
When I gladdened Huginn,
And went to battle,
Bright son of Volsung;
Now may ye call
The carl on the cliff top,
Feng or Fjolnir:
Fain would I with you.”

They made for land therewith, and took that man aboard. Then quoth Sigurd, as the song says:

“Tell me this, O Hnikar,
Since full well thou knowest
Fate of Gods, good and ill of mankind,
What best our hap foresheweth,
When amid the battle
About us sweeps the sword edge.”

Quoth Hnikar.

“Good are many tokens
If thereof men wotted
When the swords are sweeping:
Fair fellow deem I
The dark-winged raven,
In war, to weapon-wielder.
“The second good thing:
When abroad thou goest
For the long road well arrayed,
Good if thou seest
Two men standing,
Fain of fame within the forecourt.
“A third thing:
Good hearing,
The wolf a howling
Abroad under ash boughs;

326

Good hap shalt thou have
Dealing with helm-staves,
If thou seest these fare before thee.
“No man in fight
His face shall turn
Against the moon's sister
Low, late-shining,
For he winneth battle
Who best beholdeth
Through the midmost sword-play,
And the sloping ranks best shapeth.
“Great is the trouble
Of foot ill-tripping,
When arrayed for fight thou farest,
For on both sides about
Are the Dísir by thee,
Guileful, wishful of thy wounding.
“Fair-combed, well-washen
Let each warrior be,
Nor lack meat in the morning,
For who can rule
The eve's returning,
And base to fall before fate grovelling.”