The Collected Works of William Morris :: :: University of Virginia Library

Then e'en as one transfigured loud Brynhild cried, and said:
“So oft shall it be between us at hall and board and bed;
E'en so in Freyia's garden shall the lilies cover me,
While thou on the barren footways thy gown-hem folk shall see:
E'en so shall the gold cloths lap me, when we sit in Odin's hall,
While thou shiverest, little hidden, by thy lord, the Helper's thrall,
By the serving-man of Gunnar, who all his bidding doth,
And waits by the door of the bower while his master plighteth the troth:
But my mate is the King of the King-folk who rode the Wavering Fire,
And mocked at the ruddy death to win his heart's desire.
Lo now, it is meet and righteous that ye of the happy days
Should bow the heads and wonder at the wedding all men praise.
O, is it not goodly and sweet with the best of the earth to dwell,
And the man that all shall worship when the tale grows old to tell!
For the woe and the anguish endure not, but the tale and the fame endure,
And as wavering wind is the joyance, but the Gods' renown shall be sure:
It is well, O ye troth-breakers! there was found a man to ride
Through the waves of my Flickering Fire to lie by Brynhild's side.”