I hallow me to Odin for a leader of his host, To do the deeds of the Highest, and never count the cost; And I swear, that great-one shall show the day and the deed, I shall ask not why nor wherefore, but the sword's desire shall speed: And I swear to seek no quarrel, nor to swerve aside for aught Though the right and the left be blooming, and the straight way wend to nought, And I swear to abide and hearken the prayer of any thrall, Though the war-torch be on the threshold and the foemen's feet in the hall: And I swear to sit on my throne in the guise of the kings of the earth, Though the anguish past amending, and the unheard woe have birth: And I swear to wend in my sorrow that none shall curse mine eyes For the scowl that quelleth beseeching, and the hate that scorneth the wise. So help me Earth and Heavens, and the Under-sky and Seas, And the Stars in their ordered houses, and the Norns that order these! And he drank of the cup of Promise, and fair as a star he shone, And all men rejoiced and wondered, and deemed Earth's glory won. This will serve very well to show you the ringing spirit of the measure. Here is an example of another kind taken from the pages describing the first secret love of the maiden Gudrun for Sigurd. It is true to human nature; the Northern woman is apt to be most cruel to the man whom she loves most, and these few lines give us a dark suggestion of the character of Gudrun long before the real woman reveals herself--immensely passionate and immensely strong in self-control. But men say that howsoever all other folk of earth Loved Sigmund's son rejoicing, and were bettered of their mirth, Yet ever the white-armed Gudrun, the dark haired Niblung Maid, From the barren heart of sorrow her love upon him laid; He rejoiceth, and she droopeth; he speaks and hushed is she; He beholds the world's days coming, nought but Sigurd may she see. He is wise and her wisdom falters; he is kind, and harsh and strange Comes the voice from her bosom laden, and her woman's mercies change. He longs, and she sees his longing, and her heart grows cold as a sword. And her heart is the ravening fire, and the fretting sorrows' hoard.