The Story of Sigurd the Volsung | Page 6

were the mightiest men that cast The
sails of the storm of battle adown the bickering blast. There dwelt men
merry-hearted, and in hope exceeding great Met the good days and the
evil as they went the way of fate: There the Gods were unforgotten, yea
whiles they walked with men, Though e'en in that world's beginning
rose a murmur now and again Of the midward time and the fading and
the last of the latter days, And the entering in of the terror, and the

death of the People's Praise.
Thus was the dwelling of Volsung, the King of the Midworld's Mark,
As a rose in the winter season, a candle in the dark; And as in all other
matters 'twas all earthly houses' crown, And the least of its wall-hung
shields was a battle-world's renown, So therein withal was a marvel and
a glorious thing to see, For amidst of its midmost hall-floor sprang up a
mighty tree, That reared its blessings roofward, and wreathed the
roof-tree dear With the glory of the summer and the garland of the year.
I know not how they called it ere Volsung changed his life, But his
dawning of fair promise, and his noontide of the strife, His eve of the
battle-reaping and the garnering of his fame, Have bred us many a story
and named us many a name; And when men tell of Volsung, they call
that war-duke's tree, That crowned stem, the Branstock; and so was it
told unto me.
So there was the throne of Volsung beneath its blossoming bower, But
high o'er the roof-crest red it rose 'twixt tower and tower, And therein
were the wild hawks dwelling, abiding the dole of their lord; And they
wailed high over the wine, and laughed to the waking sword.
Still were its boughs but for them, when lo, on an even of May Comes
a man from Siggeir the King with a word for his mouth to say: "All hail
to thee King Volsung, from the King of the Goths I come: He hath
heard of thy sword victorious and thine abundant home; He hath heard
of thy sons in the battle, the fillers of Odin's Hall; And a word hath the
west-wind blown him, (full fruitful be its fall!) A word of thy daughter
Signy the crown of womanhood: Now he deems thy friendship goodly,
and thine help in the battle good, And for these will he give his
friendship and his battle-aid again: But if thou wouldst grant his asking,
and make his heart full fain, Then shalt thou give him a matter, saith he,
without a price, --Signy the fairer than fair, Signy the wiser than wise."
Now the message gladdened Volsung and his sons, but no word spake
Signy, till the king asked her what her mind might be. Then said Signy,
"I will wed the Goth king, and yet shall I rue my lot in his hall." And
Volsung urged her with kind words to do nought against her will, but
her mind was fixed, and she said she wrought but what the gods had
fore-ordained. So the earl of Siggeir went his way with gifts and fair
words, bidding the Goth king come ere a month was over to wed the
white-handed Signy and bear her home.

So on Mid-Summer Even ere the undark night began Siggeir the King
of the Goth-folk went up from the bath of the swan Unto the Volsung
dwelling with many an Earl about; There through the glimmering
thicket the linked mail rang out, And sang as mid the woodways sings
the summer-hidden ford: There were gold-rings God-fashioned, and
many a Dwarf-wrought sword, And many a Queen-wrought kirtle and
many a written spear; So came they to the acres, and drew the threshold
near, And amidst of the garden blossoms, on the grassy, fruit-grown
land, Was Volsung the King of the Wood-world with his sons on either
hand; Therewith down lighted Siggeir the lord of a mighty folk, Yet
showed he by King Volsung as the bramble by the oak, Nor reached his
helm to the shoulder of the least of Volsung's sons. And so into the hall
they wended, the Kings and their mighty ones; And they dight the feast
full glorious, and drank through the death of the day, Till the
shadowless moon rose upward, till it wended white away; Then they
went to the gold-hung beds, and at last for an hour or twain Were all
things still and silent, save a flaw of the summer rain.
But on the morrow noontide when the sun was high and bare, More
glorious was the banquet, and now was Signy there, And she sat beside
King Siggeir, a glorious bride forsooth; Ruddy and white was she
wrought as