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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