* * * * *

  Then she felt his hands about her as he took the fateful sword,
  And he kissed her soft and sweetly; but she answered never a word: 

* * * * *

  But swift on his ways went Sigurd, and to Regin’s house he came,
  Where the Master stood in the doorway and behind him leapt the flame,
  And dark he looked and little:  no more his speech was sweet,
  No words on his lip were gathered the Volsung child to greet,
  Till he took the sword from Sigurd and the shards of the days of old;
  Then he spake: 
               “Will nothing serve thee save this blue steel and cold,
  The bane of thy father’s father, the fate of all his kin,
  The baleful blade I fashioned, the Wrath that the Gods would win?”

  Then answered the eye-bright Sigurd:  “If thou thy craft wilt do,
  Nought save these battle-gleanings shall be my helper true:” 

So Regin welded together the shards of Sigmund’s sword, and wrought the Wrath of Sigurd, whose hilts were great and along whose edge ran a living flame so that men thought it like sunlight and lightning mingled.  Then on Greyfell, with the Wrath girt by his side, Sigurd rode to the hall of Gripir, who told him of deeds to be and of the fate that would befall him.  In no wise was Sigurd troubled, but smiled as a happy child, and together they talked of the deeds of the kings of the Earth, of the wonders of Heaven, and of the Queen of the Sea.

And Sigurd told Gripir that he indeed was wise above all men, but for himself had the Wrath been fashioned, and he was ready to ride to the Glittering Heath.  So they took leave of one another, and as the sky grew blood-red in the West, and the birds were flying homeward, Sigurd drew near to Regin’s dwelling.

Sigurd rideth to the Glittering Heath.

  Again on the morrow morning doth Sigurd the Volsung ride,
  And Regin, the Master of Masters, is faring by his side,
  And they leave the dwelling of kings and ride the summer land,
  Until at the eve of the day the hills are on either hand;
  Then they wend up higher and higher, and over the heaths they fare
  Till the moon shines broad on the midnight, and they sleep ’neath the
       heavens bare;
  And they waken and look behind them, and lo, the dawning of day
  And the little land of the Helper and its valleys far away;
  But the mountains rise before them, a wall exceeding great.

  Then spake the Master of Masters:  “We have come to the garth and the gate;
  There is youth and rest behind thee and many a thing to do,
  There is many a fond desire, and each day born anew;
  And the land of the Volsungs to conquer, and many a people’s praise: 
  And for me there is rest it may be, and the peaceful end of days. 
  We have come to the garth and the gate; to the hall-door now shall we win,
  Shall we go to look on the high-seat and see what sitteth therein?”