"So fare we, O my daughter, to the sundering of the ways; Short is my journey henceforth to the door that ends my days, And long the road that lieth as yet before thy feet. How fain were I that thy journey from day to day were sweet With peace to thee and pleasure; that a noble warrior's hand In its early days might lead thee adown the flowery land, And thy children in its noon-tide cling round about thy gown, And the wise that thy womb has carried when the sun is going down, Be thy happy fellow-farers to tell the tale of Earth, But I wot that for no such sweetness did we bring thee unto birth, But to be the soul of the Wolfings till the other days should come, And the fruit of the kindreds' harvest with thee is garnered home. Yet if for no blithe faring thy life-day is ordained, Yet peace that long endureth maybe thy soul hath gained; And thy sorrow of this even thy latest grief shall be, The grief wherewith thou singest the death-song over me." She looked up at him and smiled, though the tears were on her face; then she said: "Though to-day the grief beginneth yet the bitterness is done. Though my body wendeth barren 'neath the beams of the quickening sun, Yet remembrance still abideth, and long after the days of my life Shall I live in the tale of the morning, when they tell of the ending of strife; And the deeds of this little hand, and the thought conceived in my heart, And never again henceforward from the folk shall I fare apart. And if of the Earth, my father, thou hast tidings in thy place Thou shalt hear how they call me the Ransom and the Mother of happy days." Then she wept outright for a brief space, and thereafter she said: "Keep this in thine heart, O father, that I shall remember all Since thou liftedst the she-wolf's nursling in the oak-tree's leafy hall. Yea, every time I remember when hand in hand we went Amidst the shafts of the beech-trees, and down to the youngling bent The Folk-wolf in his glory when the eve of fight drew nigh; And every time I remember when we wandered joyfully Adown the sunny meadow and lived a while of life 'Midst the herbs and the beasts and the waters so free from fear and strife, That thy years and thy might and thy wisdom, I had no part therein; But thou wert as the twin-born brother of the maiden slim and thin, The maiden shy in the feast-hall and blithe in wood and field. Thus have we fared, my father; and e'en now when thou bearest shield, On the last of thy days of mid-earth, twixt us 'tis even so That the heart of my like-aged brother is the heart of thee that I know." Then the bitterness of tears stayed her speech, and he spake no word more, but took her in his arms a while and soothed her and fondled her, and then they parted, and he went with great strides towards the outgoing of the Thing-stead.