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Then biddeth the heart-wise Hogni, and men to the windows climb,
And uplift the war-grey corpses, dead drift of the stormy time,
And cast them adown to their people: thence they come aback and say
That scarce shall ye see the houses, and no whit the wheel-worn way

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For the spears and shields of the Eastlands that the merchant-city throng:
And back to the Niblung burg-gate the way seemed weary-long.