Now the lord of those new-coming men was a king and the son of a king,
  King Elf the son of the Helper, and he sailed from warfaring
  And drew anigh to the Isle-realm and sailed along the strand;
  For the shipmen needed water and fain would go a-land;
  And King Elf stood hard by the tiller while the world was yet a-cold: 
  Then the red sun lit the dawning, and they looked, and lo, behold! 
  The wrack of a mighty battle, and heaps of the shielded dead,
  And a woman alive amidst them, a queen with crowned head,
  And her eyes strayed down to the sea-strand, and she saw that weaponed folk,
  And turned and fled to the thicket:  then the lord of the shipmen spoke: 
  “Lo, here shall we lack for water, for the brooks with blood shall run,
  Yet wend we ashore to behold it and to wot of the deeds late done.”

  So they turned their faces to Sigmund, and waded the swathes of the sword. 
  “O, look ye long,” said the Sea-king, “for here lieth a mighty lord: 
  And all these are the deeds of his war-flame, yet hardy hearts, be sure,
  That they once durst look in his face or the wrath of his eyen endure;
  Though his lips be glad and smiling as a God that dreameth of mirth. 
  Would God I were one of his kindred, for none such are left upon earth. 
  Now fare we into the thicket, for thereto is the woman fled,
  And belike she shall tell us the story of this field of the mighty dead.”

  So they wend and find the women, and bespeak them kind and fair: 
  Then spake the gold-crowned handmaid:  “Of the Isle-king’s house we were,
  And I am the Queen called Hiordis; and the man that lies on the field
  Was mine own lord Sigmund the Volsung, the mightiest under shield.”

  Then all amazed were the sea-folk when they hearkened to that word,
  And great and heavy tidings they deem their ears have heard: 
  But again spake out the Sea-king:  “And this blue-clad one beside,
  So pale, and as tall as a Goddess, and white and lovely eyed?”

  “In sooth and in troth,” said the woman, “my serving-maid is this;
  She hath wept long over the battle, and sore afraid she is.”

  Now the king looks hard upon her, but he saith no word thereto,
  And down again to the death-field with the women-folk they go. 
  There they set their hands to the labour, and amidst the deadly mead
  They raise a mound for Sigmund, a mighty house indeed;
  And therein they set that folk-king, and goodly was his throne,
  And dight with gold and scarlet:  and the walls of the house were done
  With the cloven shields of the foemen, and banners borne to field;
  But none might find his war-helm or the splinters of his shield,
  And clenched and fast was his right hand, but no sword therein he had: 
  For Hiordis spake to the shipmen: 
                                   “Our lord and master bade
  That the shards of his glaive of battle should go with our lady the Queen: 
  And by them that lie a-dying a many things are seen.”