Page 24

Then went the bondmaid home, and told Sigrun, and sang --

     BONDMAID:
     Go out, Sigrun
     From Sevafell,
     If thou listest to look on
     The lord of thy people!
     For the mound is uncovered
     Thither is Helgi come,
     And his wounds are bleeding,
     But the king thee biddeth
     To come and stay
     That stream of sorrow.

     SIGRUN:
     Now am I as fain
     Of this fair meeting,
     As are the hungry
     Hawks of Odin,
     When they wot of the slaying
     Of the yet warm quarry,
     Or bright with dew
     See the day a-dawning.

     Ah, I will kiss
     My king laid lifeless,
     Ere thou castest by
     Thy blood-stained byrny.
     O Helgi, thy hair
     Is thick with death's rime,
     With the dew of the dead
     Is my love all dripping;
     Dead-cold are the hands
     Of the son of Hogni;
     How for thee, O my king,
     May I win healing?

     HELGI:
     Thou alone, Sigrun
     Of Sevafell,
     Hast so done that Helgi
     With grief's dew drippeth;
     O clad in gold
     Cruel tears thou weepest,
     Bright May of the Southlands,
     Or ever thou sleepest;
     Each tear in blood falleth
     On the breast of thy lord,
     Cold wet and bitter-sharp
     Swollen with sorrow.

     Ah, we shall drink
     Dear draughts and lovely,
     Though, we have lost
     Both life and lands;
     Neither shall any
     Sing song of sorrow,
     Though in my breast
     Be wounds wide to behold:
     For now are brides
     In the mound abiding;
     Kings' daughters sit
     By us departed.

     SIGRUN:
     Here, Helgi, for thee
     A bed have I dight,
     Kind without woe,
     O kin of the Ylfings!
     To thy bosom, O king,
     Will I come and sleep soft,
     As I was wont
     When my lord was living.

     HELGI:
     Now will I call
     Naught not to be hoped for
     Early or late
     At Sevafell,
     When thou in the arms
     Of a dead man art laid,
     White maiden of Hogni,
     Here in the mound:
     And thou yet quick,
     O King's daughter!

     Now needs must I ride
     On the reddening ways;
     My pale horse must tread
     The highway aloft;
     West must I go
     To Windhelm's bridge
     Ere the war-winning crowd
     Hall-crower (4) waketh.

     SIGRUN:
     Here now would he come,
     If to come he were minded;
     Sigmund's offspring
     From the halls of Odin.
     O me the hope waneth
     Of Helgi's coming;
     For high on the ash-boughs
     Are the ernes abiding,
     And all folk drift
     Toward the Thing of the dreamland.

     BONDMAID:
     Be not foolish of heart,
     And fare all alone
     To the house of the dead,
     O Hero's daughter!
     For more strong and dreadful
     In the night season
     Are all dead warriors
     Than in the daylight.