But that night, when the feast was over, to Gudrun Sigurd came,
  And she noted the ring on his finger, and she knew it was nowise the same
  As the ring he was wont to carry; so she bade him tell thereof: 
  Then he turned unto her kindly, and his words were words of love;
  Nor his life nor his death he heeded, but told her last night’s tale: 
  Yea, he drew forth the sword for his slaying, and whetted the edges of bale;
  For he took that Gold of Andvari, that Curse of the uttermost land,
  And he spake as a king that loveth, and set it on her hand;
  But her heart was exceeding joyous, as he kissed her sweet and soft,
  And bade her bear it for ever, that she might remember him oft
  When his hand from the world was departed and he sat in Odin’s home.

How Brynhild was wedded to Gunnar the Niblung.

So ten days wore over, and on the morrow-morn the folk were all astir in the Niblung house, till the watchers on the towers cried to them tidings of a goodly company drawing nigh upon the road.  Then the Niblungs got them to horse in glittering-gay raiment and went forth to meet the people of Brynhild.

First rode bands of maidens arrayed in fine linen and blue-broidered cloaks, and after them came a golden wain with horses of snowy white and bench-cloths of blue, and therein sat Brynhild alone, clad in swan-white raiment and crowned with gold.  Then they hailed her sweet and goodly, and so she entered the darksome gate-way and came within the Niblung Burg.

  So fair in the sun of the forecourt doth Brynhild’s wain shine bright,
  And the huge hall riseth before her, and the ernes cry out from its height,
  And there by the door of the Niblungs she sees huge warriors stand,
  Dark-clad, by the shoulders greater than the best of any land,
  And she knoweth the chiefs of the Niblungs, the dreaded dukes of war: 
  But one in cloudy raiment stands a very midst the door,
  And ruddy and bright is his visage, and his black locks wave in the wind,
  And she knoweth the King of the Niblungs and the man she came to find: 
  Then nought she lingered nor loitered, but stepped to the earth adown
  With right-hand reached to the War-God, the wearer of the crown;
  And she said: 
              “I behold thee, Gunnar, the King of War that rode
  Through the waves of the Flickering Fire to the door of mine abode,

* * * * *

“And for this I needs must deem thee the best of all men born,
The highest-hearted, the greatest, the staunchest of thy love: 
And that such the world yet holdeth, my heart is fain thereof: 
And for thee I deem was I fashioned, and for thee the oath I swore
In the days of my glory and wisdom, ere the days of youth were o’er.

* * * * *