University of Virginia Library

Then he casteth his arms about her, and hot is the heart of the King
For the glory of Queen Brynhild and the hope of her days of gain,
And he clean forgetteth Sigurd and the foster-brother slain:
But she shrank aback from before him, and cried: “Woe worth the while
For the thoughts ye drive back on me, and the memory of your guile!
The Kings of earth were gathered, the wise of men were met;
On the death of a woman's pleasure their glorious hearts were set,

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And I was alone amidst them—Ah, hold thy peace hereof!
Lest the thought of the bitterest hours this little hour should move.”