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 And unshielded smote King Gunnar, and sent the

Niblung song Through the quaking "stems of battle in the hall of

Atli's wrong: Then he rent the knitted war-hedge till by Hogni's

side he stood, And kissed him amidst of the spear-hail, and their

cheeks were wet with blood.

Then on came the Niblung bucklers, and they drave

the East- folk home, As the bows of the oar-driven long-ship beat off the

waves in foam: They leave their dead behind them, and they come

to the doors and the wall, And a few last spears from the fleeing amidst their

shield-hedge fall : But the doors clash to in their faces, as the fleeing

rout they drive,

And fain would follow after; and none is left alive In the feast-hall of King Atli. save those fishes of

the net, And the white and silent woman above the slaughter

set.

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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