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 But the Niblungs look about them, and but few

folk they behold Upright on their feet for the battle : now they climb

aloft no more, Nor cast the dead from the windows; but they

raise a rampart of war, And its stones are the fallen East-folk, and no lowly

wall is that.

Therein was Gunnar the mighty: on the shields of

men he sat, And the sons of his people hearkened, for his hand

through the harp-strings ran, And he sang in the hall of his foeman of the Gods

and the making of man, And how season was sundered from season in the

days of the fashioning, And became the Summer and Autumn, and became

the Winter and Spring; He sang of men's hunger and labour, and their love

and their breeding of broil, And their hope that is fostered of famine, and their

rest that is fashioned of toil: Fame then and the sword he sang of, and the hour

of the hardy and wise, When the last of the living shall perish, and the

first of the dead shall nrise, And the torch shall be lit in the daylight, and God

unto man shall pray, And the he.irt shall cry out for the hand in the

fight of the uttermost day.

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