Then Knefrud looked upon Gunnar, and spake, nor sank his eyes: 
    “Each morn at the day’s beginning when the sun hath hope to arise
    She looketh from Atli’s tower toward the west part and the grey,
    To see the Niblung spear-heads gleam down the lonely way: 
    Each eve at the day’s departing on the topmost tower she stands,
    And looketh toward the mirk-wood and the sea of the western lands: 
    There long in the wind she standeth, and the even grown acold,
    To see the Niblung war-shields come forth from out the wold.”

    Then Gunnar turneth to Hogni, and he saith:  “O glorious lord,
    What saith thine heart to the bidding, and Atli’s loving word?”

    “I have done many deeds,” said Hogni, “I have worn the smooth and the
      rough,
    While the Gods looked on from heaven, and belike I have done enough,
    And no deed for me abideth, but rather the sleep and the rest
    But thou, O Son of King Giuki, art our eldest and our best,
    And fair lie the fields before thee wherein thine hand shall work: 
    By the wayside of the greedy doth many a peril lurk;
    Full wise is the great one meseemeth who bideth his ending at home
    When the winds and the waves may be dealing with hate that hath far
      to come.”

    “I hearken thy word,” said Gunnar, “and I know in very deed
    That long-lived and happy are most men that hearken Hogni’s rede. 
    Hear thou, O Eastland War-god, and bear this answer aback,
    That nought may the earth of my people King Giuki’s children lack,
    And that here in the land am I biding till the Norns my life shall
      change;
    Howbeit, if here were Atli, his face were scarce more strange
    Than that daughter of my father whom sore I long to see: 
    Let him come, and sit with the Niblungs, and be called their king
      with me.”

    Then spake the guileful Knefrud, and his word was exceeding proud: 
    “It is little the wont of Atli to sit at meat with a crowd;
    Yet know, O Westland Warrior, that thy message shall be done. 
    Since the Cloudy Folk make ready new lodging for the sun.”

    He laughed, and the wise kept silence, and Gunnar heeded him nought: 
    On the daughter of his people was set the Niblung’s thought,
    So sore he longed to behold her; for his life seemed wearing away,
    And the wealth and the fame he had gathered seemed nought by the
      earlier day,
    The day of love departed, and of hope forgotten long.

    But Hogni laughs with the stranger, and cries out for harp and song,
    And the glee rises up as a river when the mountain-tops grow clear,
    When seaward drift the rain-clouds, and the end of day is near;
    As of birds in the green groves singing is the Niblung manhood’s voice,
    And the Earls without foreboding