And now for their fame’s advancement, and the latter days to speed,
    He weddeth a wife of the King-folk; Borghild she had to name;
    And the woman was fair and lovely and bore him sons of fame;
    Men call them Hamond and Helgi, and when Helgi first saw light,
    There came the Norns to his cradle and gave him life full bright,
    And called him Sunlit Hill, Sharp Sword, and Land of Rings,
    And bade him be lovely and great, and a joy in the tale of kings. 
    And he waxed up fair and mighty, and no worser than their word,
    And sweet are the tales of his life-days, and the wonders of his sword,
    And the Maid of the Shield that he wedded, and how he changed his life,
    And of marvels wrought in the gravemound where he rested from the
      strife.

    But the tale of Sinfiotli telleth, that wide in the world he went,
    And many a wall of ravens the edge of his warflame rent;
    And oft he drave the war-prey and wasted many a land: 
    Amidst King Hunding’s battle he strengthened Helgi’s hand;
    And he went before the banners amidst the steel-grown wood,
    When the sons of Hunding gathered and Helgi’s hope withstood: 
    Nor less he mowed the war-swathe in Helgi’s glorious day
    When the kings of the hosts at the Wolf-crag set the battle in array. 
    Then at home by his father’s high-seat he wore the winter through;
    And the marvel of all men he was for the deeds whereof they knew,
    And the deeds whereof none wotted, and the deeds to follow after.

    And yet but a little while he loved the song and the laughter,
    And the wine that was drunk in peace, and the swordless lying down,
    And the deedless day’s uprising and the ungirt golden gown. 
    And he thought of the word of his mother, that his day should not be
      long
    To weary his soul with labour or mingle wrong with wrong;
    And his heart was exceeding hungry o’er all men to prevail,
    And make his short day glorious and leave a goodly tale.

    So when green leaves were lengthening and the spring was come again
    He set his ships in the sea-flood and sailed across the main;
    And the brother of Queen Borghild was his fellow in the war,
    A king of hosts hight Gudrod; and each to each they swore,
    And plighted troth for the helping, and the parting of the prey.

Now a long way over the sea-flood they went ashore on a day
And fought with a mighty folk-king, and overcame at last: 
Then wide about his kingdom the net of steel they cast,
And the prey was great and goodly that they drave unto the strand. 
But a greedy heart is Gudrod, and a king of griping hand,
Though nought he blench from the battle; so he speaks on a morning
fair,
And saith: 
“Upon the foreshore the booty will we share
If thou wilt help me, fellow, before we sail our ways.”