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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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Then into the hall of the Niblungs go the battle-staying earls,
And they cast the spoil in the midmost, the webs of the out-sea pearls,
And the gold-enwoven purple that on hated kings was bright;
Fair jewelled swords accursèd that never flashed in fight;
Crowns of old kings of battle that dastards dared to wear;
Great golden shields dishonoured, and the traitors' battle-gear;
Chains of the evil judges, and the false accusers' rings,
And the cloud-wrought silken raiment of the cruel whores of kings.
And they cried: “O King of the people, O Giuki old of years,
Lo, the wealth that Sigurd brings thee from the fashioners of tears!
Take thou the gift, O Niblung, that the Volsung seed hath brought!
For we fought on the guarded fore-shore, in the guileful wood we fought;
And we fought in the traitorous city, and the murder-halls of kings;
And Sigurd showed us the treasure, and won us the ruddy rings
From the jaws of the treason and death, and redeemed our lives from the snare,
That the uttermost days might know it, and the day of the Niblungs be fair:

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And all this he giveth to thee, as the Gods give harvest and gain,
And sit in their thrones of the heaven, of the praise of the people fain.”