“It were well, O Son,” said Grimhild, “in such fellowship to fare;
    But not today nor tomorrow; the hearts of the Gods would I wear,
    And know of the will of the Norns; for a mighty matter is this,
    And a deed all lands shall tell of, and the hope of the Niblung bliss.”

    So apart for long dwelt Grimhild, and mingled the might of the earth
    With the deeds of the chilly sea, and the heart of the cloudland’s
      dearth;
    And all these with the wine she mingled, and sore guile was set
      therein,
    Blindness, and strong compelling for such as dared to win: 
    And she gave the drink to her sons; and withal unto Gunnar she spake,
    And told him tales of the King-folk, and smote desire awake;
    Till many a time he bethinks him of the Maiden sitting alone,
    And the Queen that was shapen for him; till a dream of the night is
      she grown,
    And a tale of the day’s desire, and the crown of all his praise: 
    And the net of the Norns was about him, and the snare was spread in
      his ways,
    And his mother’s will was spurring adown the way they would;
    For she was the wise of women and the framer of evil and good.

    In the May-morn riseth Gunnar with fair face and gleaming eyes,
    And he calleth on Sigurd his brother, and he calleth on Hogni the wise: 
    “Today shall we fare to the wooing, for so doth our mother bid;
    We shall go to gaze on marvels, and things from the King-folk hid.”

    So they do on the best of their war-gear, and their steeds are dight
      for the road,
    And forth to the sun neigheth Greyfell as he neighed ’neath the
      Golden Load: 
    But or ever they leap to the saddle, while yet in the door they stand,
    Thereto cometh Grimhild the wise-wife, and on each head layeth her
      hand,
    As she saith:  “Be mighty and wise, as the kings that came before! 
    For they knew of the ways of the Gods, and the craft of the Gods they
      bore: 
    And they knew how the shapes of man-folk are the very images
    Of the hearts that abide within them, and they knew of the shaping of
      these. 
    Be wise and mighty, O Kings, and look in mine heart and behold
    The craft that prevaileth o’er semblance, and the treasured wisdom of
      old! 
    I hallow you thus for the day, and I hallow you thus for the night,
    And I hallow you thus for the dawning with my fathers’ hidden might. 
    Go now, for ye bear my will while I sit in the hall and spin;
    And tonight shall be the weaving, and tomorn the web shall ye win.”

    So they leap to the saddles aloft, and they ride and speak no word,
    But the hills and the dales are awakened by the clink of the sheathed
      sword: 
    None looks in the face of the other, but the earth and the heavens
      gaze,
    And behold those kings of battle ride down the dusty ways.