And the walls are strange and wondrous with the noble stories told: 
    For new-hung is the ancient dwelling with the golden spoils of the
      south,
    And men seem merry for ever, and the praise is in each man’s mouth,
    And the name of Sigurd the Volsung, the King and the Serpent’s Bane,
    Who exalteth the high this morning and blesseth the masters of gain: 
    For men drink the bridal of Sigurd and the white-armed Niblung maid,
    And the best with the best shall be mingled, and the gold with the
      gold o’erlaid.

    So, fair in the hall is the feasting and men’s hearts are uplifted
      on high,
    And they deem that the best of their life-days are surely drawing
      anigh,
    As now, one after other, uprise the scalds renowned,
    And their well-beloved voices awake the hoped-for sound,
    In the midmost of the high-tide, and the joy of feasting lords. 
    Then cometh a hush and a waiting, and the light of many swords
    Flows into the hall of Giuki by the doorway of the King,
    And amid those flames of battle the war-clad warriors bring
    The Cup of daring Promise and the hallowed Boar of Son,
    And men’s hearts grow big with longing and great is the hope-tide
      grown;
    For bright the Son of Sigmund ariseth by the board,
    And unwinds the knitted peace-strings that hamper Regin’s Sword: 
    Then fierce is the light on the high-seat as men set down the Cup
    Anigh the hand of Sigurd, and the edges blue rise up,
    And fall on the hallowed Wood-beast:  as a trump of the woeful war
    Rings the voice of the mighty Volsung as he speaks the words of yore: 

    “By the Earth that groweth and giveth, and by all the Earth’s increase
    That is spent for Gods and man-folk; by the sun that shines on these;
    By the Salt-Sea-Flood that beareth the life and death of men;
    By the Heavens and Stars that change not, though earth die out again;
    By the wild things of the mountain, and the houseless waste and lone;
    By the prey of the Goths in the thicket and the holy Beast of Son,
    I hallow me to Odin for a leader of his host,
    To do the deeds of the highest, and never count the cost: 
    And I swear, that whatso great-one shall show the day and the deed,
    I shall ask not why nor wherefore, but the sword’s desire shall speed: 
    And I swear to seek no quarrel, nor to swerve aside for aught,
    Though the right and the left be blooming, and the straight way wend
      to nought: 
    And I swear to abide and hearken the prayer of any thrall,
    Though the war-torch be on the threshold and the foemen’s feet in the
      hall: 
    And I swear to sit on my throne in the guise of the kings of the earth,
    Though the anguish past amending, and the unheard woe have birth: 
    And I swear to wend in my sorrow that none shall curse mine eyes
    For the scowl that quelleth beseeching, and the hate that scorneth
      the wise. 
    So help me Earth and Heavens, and the Under-sky and Seas,
    And the Stars in their ordered houses, and the Norns that order these!”