blood,
    And fulfilled with the joy of the War-God on the face of earth he stood
    With red sword high uplifted, with wrathful glittering eyes;
    And he laughed at the heavens above him for he saw the sun arise,
    And Sigurd gleamed on the desert, and shone in the new-born light,
    And the wind in his raiment wavered, and all the world was bright.

    But there was the ancient Fafnir, and the Face of Terror lay
    On the huddled folds of the Serpent, that were black and ashen-grey
    In the desert lit by the sun; and those twain looked each on each,
    And forth from the Face of Terror went a sound of dreadful speech: 

    “Child, child, who art thou that hast smitten? bright child, of whence
      is thy birth?”

    “I am called the Wild-thing Glorious, and alone I wend on the earth.”

    “Fierce child, and who was thy father?—­Thou hast cleft the heart of
      the Foe!”

    “Am I like to the sons of men-folk, that my father I should know?”

    “Wert thou born of a nameless wonder? shall the lies to my death-day
      cling?”

    “How lieth Sigurd the Volsung, and the Son of Sigmund the King?”

    “O bitter father of Sigurd!—­thou hast cleft mine heart atwain!”

    “I arose, and I wondered and wended, and I smote, and I smote not in
      vain.”

    “What master hath taught thee of murder?—­Thou hast wasted Fafnir’s
      day.”

    “I, Sigurd, knew and desired, and the bright sword learned the way.”

    “Thee, thee shall the rattling Gold and the red rings bring to the
      bane.”

    “Yet mine hand shall cast them abroad, and the earth shall gather
      again.”

    “I see thee great in thine anger, and the Norns thou heedest not.”

    “O Fafnir, speak of the Norns and the wisdom unforgot!”

    “Let the death-doomed flee from the ocean, him the wind and the
      weather shall drown.”

    “O Fafnir, tell of the Norns ere thy life thou layest adown!”

    “O manifold is their kindred, and who shall tell them all? 
    There are they that rule o’er men-folk and the stars that rise and
      fall: 
    —­I knew of the folk of the Dwarfs, and I knew their Norns of old;
    And I fought, and I fell in the morning, and I die afar from the gold: 
    —­I have seen the Gods of heaven, and their Norns withal I know: 
    They love and withhold their helping, they hate and refrain the blow;
    They curse and they may not sunder, they bless and they shall not
      blend;
    They have fashioned the good and the evil; they abide the change and
      the end.”

    “O Fafnir, what of the Isle, and what hast thou known of its name,
    Where the Gods shall mingle edges with Surt and the Sons of the Flame?”