So he spake, and his love rejoiced her, and they rose in the face of
      the day,
    And no seeming shadow of evil on those bright-eyed King-folk lay.

    Thus stirreth the house of the Niblungs, and awakeneth unto life;
    And were there any envy, or doubt that breedeth strife,
    ’Twixt friends or kin or brethren, ’twas healed that self-same morn,
    And peace and loving-kindness o’er all the house was borne,

    Now arrayed are the earls and the warriors, and into the hall they come
    When the morning sun is shining through the heart of their ancient
      home;
    And lo, how the allwise Grimhild is set in the golden seat,
    The first of the way-fain warriors, and the first of the wives to
      greet;
    In the raiment of old she sitteth, aloft in the kingly place,
    And all men marvel to see her and the glory of her face.

    So all is dight for departing and the helms of the Niblung lords
    Shine close as a river of fire o’er the hilts of hidden swords: 
    About and around are the women; and who e’er hath been heavy of heart,
    If their hearts are light this morning when their fairest shall depart? 
    They hear the steeds in the forecourt; from the rampart of the wall
    Comes the cry and noise of the warders as man to man doth call;
    For the young give place to the old, and the strong carles labour to
      show
    The last-learned craft of battle to their fathers ere they go. 
    There is mocking and mirth and laughter as men tell to the ancient
      sires
    Of the four-sheared shaft of the gathering, and the horn, and the
      beaconing fires. 
    Woe’s me! but the women laugh not:  do they hope that the sun may be
      stayed,
    And the journey of the Niblungs a little while delayed? 
    Or is not their hope the rather, that they do but dream in the night,
    And that they shall awake in a little with the land’s life faring
      aright? 
    Ah, fair and fresh is the morning as ever a season hath been,
    And the nourishing sun shines glorious on the toil of carle and quean,
    And the wealth of the land desired, and all things are alive and awake;
    Let them wait till the even bringeth sweet rest for hearts that ache.

    Lo now, a stir by the doorway, and men see how great and grand
    Come the Kings of Giuki begotten, all-armed, and hand in hand: 
    Where then shall the world behold them, such champions clad in steel,
    Such hearts so free and bounteous, so wise for the people’s weal? 
    Where then shall the world see such-like, if these must die as the
      mean,
    And fall as lowly people, and their days be no more seen? 
    They go forth fair and softly as they wend to the seat of the Kings,
    And they smile in their loving-kindness as they talk of bygone things.