The Collected Works of William Morris With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris |
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 | The Collected Works of William Morris |  |
Now is Brynhild wan as the dead, and she openeth her mouth to speak,
But no word cometh outward: then the green bank doth she seek,
And casteth her raiment upon her, and flees o'er the meadow fair,
As though flames were burning beneath it, and red gleeds the daisies were:
But fair with face triumphant from the water Gudrun goes,
And with many a thought of Sigurd the heart within her glows.
And yet as she walked the meadow a fear upon her came,
What deeds are the deeds of women in their anguish and their shame;
And many a heavy warning and many a word of fate
By the lips of Sigurd spoken she remembereth overlate;
Yet e'en to the heart within her she dissembleth all her dread.
Daylong she sat in her bower in glee and goodlihead,
But when the day was departing and the earl-folk drank in the hall
She went alone in the garden by the nook of the Niblung wall;
There she thought of that word in the river, and of how it were better unsaid,
And she looked with kind words to hide it, as men bury their battle-dead
With the spice and the sweet-smelling raiment: in the cool of the eve she went
And murmured her speech of forgiveness and the words of her intent,
While her heart was happy with love: then she lifted up her face,
And lo, there was Brynhild the Queen hard by in the leafy place;
Then the smile from her bright eyes faded and a flush came over her cheek
And she said: “What dost thou, Brynhild? what matter dost thou seek?”
But no word cometh outward: then the green bank doth she seek,
And casteth her raiment upon her, and flees o'er the meadow fair,
As though flames were burning beneath it, and red gleeds the daisies were:
But fair with face triumphant from the water Gudrun goes,
And with many a thought of Sigurd the heart within her glows.
209
What deeds are the deeds of women in their anguish and their shame;
And many a heavy warning and many a word of fate
By the lips of Sigurd spoken she remembereth overlate;
Yet e'en to the heart within her she dissembleth all her dread.
Daylong she sat in her bower in glee and goodlihead,
But when the day was departing and the earl-folk drank in the hall
She went alone in the garden by the nook of the Niblung wall;
There she thought of that word in the river, and of how it were better unsaid,
And she looked with kind words to hide it, as men bury their battle-dead
With the spice and the sweet-smelling raiment: in the cool of the eve she went
And murmured her speech of forgiveness and the words of her intent,
While her heart was happy with love: then she lifted up her face,
And lo, there was Brynhild the Queen hard by in the leafy place;
Then the smile from her bright eyes faded and a flush came over her cheek
And she said: “What dost thou, Brynhild? what matter dost thou seek?”
| The Collected Works of William Morris | |