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 Brim the horn ! a health is drunk,

Now, that shall keep going : Life is but the pebble sunk,

Deeds, the circle growing ! Fill, and pledge the Head of Bran!

While his lead they follow, Long shall heads in Britain plan

Speech Death cannot swallow.

George Mercditk.

CXIII THE SLAYING OF THE NIBLUNGS

HOGNI

YE shall know that in Atli's feast-hall on the side that joined the house

Were many carven doorways whose work was glori- ous

With marble stones and gold-work, and their doors of beaten brass :

Lo now, in the merry morning how the story cometh to pass !

While the echoes of the trumpet yet fill the people's ears,

And Hogni casts by the war-horn, and his Dwarf- wrought sword uprears,

All those doors aforesaid open, and in pour the streams of steel,

The best of the Eastland champions, the bold men of Atli's weal:

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