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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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Then Regin trembled and shrank, so bright his eyes outshone
As he turned about to the anvil, and smote the sword thereon;
But the shards fell shivering earthward, and Sigurd's heart grew wroth
As the steel-flakes tinkled about him: “Lo, there the right-hand's troth!
Lo, there the golden glitter, and the word that soon is spilt.”
And down amongst the ashes he cast the glittering hilt,
And turned his back on Regin and strode out through the door,
And for many a day of spring-tide came back again no more.

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But at last he came to the stithy and again took up the word:
“What hast thou done, O Master, in the forging of the sword?”