* * * * *

  Again, in the house of the Helper there dwelt a certain man
  Beardless and low of stature, of visage pinched and wan: 
  So exceeding old was Regin, that no son of man could tell
  In what year of the days passed over he came to that land to dwell: 
  But the youth of King Elf had he fostered, and the Helper’s youth thereto,
  Yea and his father’s father’s:  the lore of all men he knew,
  And was deft in every cunning, save the dealings of the sword: 
  So sweet was his tongue-speech fashioned, that men trowed his every word;
  His hand with the harp-strings blended was the mingler of delight
  With the latter days of sorrow; all tales he told aright;
  The Master of the Masters in the smithying craft was he;
  And he dealt with the wind and the weather and the stilling of the sea;
  Nor might any learn him leech-craft, for before that race was made,
  And that man-folk’s generation, all their life-days had he weighed.

In this land of the Helper and Elf, his son, dwelt Hiordis, and here her son, the last of the Volsungs, was born.  The babe had eyes of such wondrous brightness that the folk shrank from him, while they rejoiced over his birth, but his mother spake to the babe as to one who might understand, and she told him of Sigmund and Volsung, of their wars and their troubles and their joys.  Then she gave him to her maids to bear him to the kings of the land that they might rejoice with her.

  But there sat the Helper of Men with King Elf and his Earls in the hall,
  And they spake of the deeds that had been, and told of the times to befall,
  And they hearkened and heard sweet voices and the sound of harps draw nigh,
  Till their hearts were exceeding merry and they knew not wherefore or why: 
  Then, lo, in the hall white raiment, as thither the damsels came,
  And amid the hands of the foremost was the woven gold aflame.

  “O daughters of earls,” said the Helper, “what tidings then do ye bear? 
  Is it grief in the merry morning, or joy or wonder or fear?”

  Quoth the first:  “It is grief for the foemen that the Masters of God-home
       would grieve.”

  Said the next:  “’Tis a wonder of wonders, that the hearkening world shall
       believe.”

  “A fear of all fears,” said the third, “for the sword is uplifted on men.”

  “A joy of all joys,” said the fourth, “once come, and it comes not again!”

* * * * *

  “What then hath betid,” said King Elf, “do the high Gods stand in our gate?”

  “Nay,” said they, “else were we silent, and they should be telling of fate.”

  “Is the bidding come,” said the Helper, “that we wend the Gods to see?”

  “Many summers and winters,” they said, “ye shall live on the earth, it may
     be.”

* * * * *