She said:  “I beheld King Atli midst the place of sacrifice
    And the holy grove of the Eastland in a king’s most hallowed guise: 
    Then I looked, as with laughter triumphant he laid his gift in the
      fire,
    And lo, ’twas the heart of Hogni, and the heart of my desire;
    But he turned and looked upon me as I sickened with fear and with love,
    And I saw the guile of the greedy, and with speechless sleep I strove,
    And had cried out curses against him, but my gaping throat was hushed,
    Till the light of a deedless dawning o’er dream and terror rushed;
    And there wert thou lying beside me, though but little joy it seemed,
    For thou wert but an image unstable of the days before I dreamed.”

    Quoth Hogni, “Shall I arede it?  Seems it not meet to thee
    That the heart and the love of the Niblungs in Atli’s hand should be,
    When he stands by the high Gods’ altars, and uplifts his heart for the
      tide
    When the kings of the world-great people to the Eastland house shall
      ride? 
    Nay, Bera, wilt thou be weeping? but parting-fear is this;
    Doubt not we shall come back happy from the house of Atli’s bliss: 
    At least, when a king’s hand offers all honour and great weal,
    Wouldst thou have me strive to unclasp it to show the hidden steel? 
    With evil will I meet evil when it draweth exceeding near;
    But oft have I heard of evil, whose father was but fear,
    And his mother lust of living, and nought will I deal with it,
    Lest the past, and those deeds of my doing be as straw when the fire
      is lit. 
    Lo now, O Daughter of Kings, let us rise in the face of the day,
    And be glad in the summer morning when the kindred ride on their way;
    For tears beseem not king-folk, nor a heart made dull with dreams,
    But to hope, if thou mayst, for ever, and to fear nought, well
      beseems.”

    There the talk falls down between them, and they rise in the morn,
      they twain,
    And bright-faced wend through the dwelling of the Niblungs’ glory and
      gain.

    Meanwhile awakeneth Gunnar, and looks on the wife by his side,
    And saith:  “Why weepest thou, Glaumvor, what evil now shall betide?”

    She said:  “I was waking and dreamed, or I slept and saw the truth;
    The Norns are hooded and angry, and the Gods have forgotten their
      ruth.”

    “Speak, sweet-mouthed woman,” said Gunnar, “if the Norns are hard, I
      am kind;
    Though even the King of the Niblungs may loose not where they bind.”

    She said:  “Wilt thou go unto Atli and enter the Burg of the East? 
    Wilt thou leave the house of the faithful, and turn to the murderer’s
      feast?”

    “It is e’en as certain,” said Gunnar, “as though I knocked at his gate,
    If the winds and waters stay not, or death, or the dealings of Fate.”