The Story of Sigurd the Volsung | Page 7

the fair-stained sea-beast's tooth, But she neither laughed
nor spake, and her eyes were hard and cold, And with wandering
side-long looks her lord would she behold. That saw Sigmund her
brother, the eldest Volsung son, And oft he looked upon her, and their
eyes met now and anon, And ruth arose in his heart, and hate of Siggeir
the Goth, And there had he broken the wedding, but for plighted
promise and troth. But those twain were beheld of Siggeir, and he
deemed of the Volsung kin, That amid their might and their malice
small honour should he win; Yet thereof made he no semblance, but
abided times to be, And laughed out with the loudest, amid the hope
and the glee. And nought of all saw Volsung, as he dreamed of the
coming glory, And how the Kings of his kindred should fashion the
round world's story.
So round about the Branstock they feast in the gleam of the gold; And
though the deeds of man-folk were not yet waxen old, Yet had they
tales for songcraft, and the blossomed garth of rhyme; Tales of the
framing of all things and the entering in of time From the halls of the

outer heaven; so near they knew the door. Wherefore uprose a sea-king,
and his hands that loved the oar Now dealt with the rippling harp-gold,
and he sang of the shaping of earth, And how the stars were lighted,
and where the winds had birth, And the gleam of the first of summers
on the yet untrodden grass. But e'en as men's hearts were hearkening
some heard the thunder pass O'er the cloudless noontide heaven; and
some men turned about And deemed that in the doorway they heard a
man laugh out. Then into the Volsung dwelling a mighty man there
strode, One-eyed and seeming ancient, yet bright his visage glowed:
Cloud-blue was the hood upon him, and his kirtle gleaming-grey As the
latter morning sundog when the storm is on the way: A bill he bore on
his shoulder, whose mighty ashen beam Burnt bright with the flame of
the sea and the blended silver's gleam. And such was the guise of his
raiment as the Volsung elders had told Was borne by their fathers'
fathers, and the first that warred in the wold.
So strode he to the Branstock nor greeted any lord, But forth from his
cloudy raiment he drew a gleaming sword, And smote it deep in the
tree-hole, and the wild hawks overhead Laughed 'neath the naked
heaven as at last he spake and said:
"Earls of the Goths, and Volsungs, abiders on the earth, Lo there amid
the Branstock a blade of plenteous worth! The folk of the war-wand's
forgers wrought never better steel Since first the burg of heaven uprose
for man-folk's weal. Now let the man among you whose heart and hand
may shift To pluck it from the oakwood e'en take it for my gift. Then
ne'er, but his own heart falter, its point and edge shall fail Until the
night's beginning and the ending of the tale. Be merry Earls of the
Goth-folk, O Volsung Sons be wise And reap the battle-acre that
ripening for you lies: For they told me in the wild wood, I heard on the
mountain side, That the shining house of heaven is wrought exceeding
wide, And that there the Early-comers shall have abundant rest While
Earth grows scant of great ones, and fadeth from its best, And fadeth
from its midward and groweth poor and vile:-- All hail to thee King
Volsung! farewell for a little while!"
So sweet his speaking sounded, so wise his words did seem, That
moveless all men sat there, as in a happy dream We stir not lest we
waken; but there his speech had end, And slowly down the hall-floor,
and outward did he wend; And none would cast him a question or

follow on his ways, For they knew that the gift was Odin's, a sword for
the world to praise.
But now spake Volsung the King: "Why sit ye silent and still? Is the
Battle-Father's visage a token of terror and ill? Arise O Volsung
Children, Earls of the Goths arise, And set your hands to the hilts as
mighty men and wise! Yet deem it not too easy; for belike a fateful
blade Lies there in the heart of the Branstock for a fated warrior made."
Now therewith spake King Siggeir: "King Volsung give me a grace To
try it the first of all men, lest another win my place And mere
chance-hap steal my glory and the gain that I might win."
Then somewhat laughed King Volsung, and he said: "O Guest, begin;
Though herein is the first as the last, for the