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Fiannamail, whose kin for ever Lie in death, draws nigh the hall; Truly gallant is his bearing, As he answers to our call.

Maiden, much your message moved me, Mournful was the news it brought, "That my kin were dead"; but valiant Was the fight, if here they fought.

Here your kindred lie; yet little Need to speak, their forms you know; Far and wide they fell, and falling Slew in blood full many a foe.

Speak of Mani, is he living? Is my comrade lying here? Whom as chief in hall I follow, Who as friend to me is dear.