Then the great King gave commandment that a guard of honour should go With his sister and his mother, in their farings to and fro, Of a hundred of his good knights, each man with sword in hand, As was ever the royal custom in fair Burgundia-land. Beside her princess-daughter Uta the queenly came, And a bright train followed after of many a lovely dame, Five score, yea more peradventure, in costly raiment arrayed; And paced behind fair Kriemhild many a winsome maid. From a stately tiring-bower those daintiest feet forth paced: Then surged the great press forward of heroes eager-faced Which had stood there long-expectant, if haply their lot might be To look glad-eyed on the Fairest, on the Star of Burgundy. Now forth of the doors the Loveliest came, as the morning-red From lowering clouds forth breaketh;--lo, how his heart-ache fled, His, who in his soul had shrined her through all that weary tide! For he saw that glory of women stand there in her beauty's pride. Flashed many a priceless gemstone from the folds of her attire, And the roses flushed through the lilies, a snare of hearts' desire. Howsoe'er 'gainst the spell of her beauty one strove, he needs must own That nothing so passing lovely in the wide world yet had he known. As the full moon in her glory swims on before the stars, And the brightness of her splendour floats forth of the cloudy bars, So before all other women shone out that Queen of Love. Well might the hearts of the heroes be uplifted for joy thereof! Paced onward before the maidens the stately chamberlains. Now could they forbear no longer, those noble-hearted thanes, But to gaze on her winsome sweetness forward still did they press. Then was Siegfried's heart joy-ravished, and anon in heaviness. In his inmost soul was he musing: "How dared I dream such bliss That I, I ever should woo thee?--an idle dream was this! Yet must I for aye be a stranger? Better that I lay dead!" And oft in his thoughts' wild tumult he paled, and anon flushed red. {P. 39} There Siegelind's son stood moveless, and so winsome did he seem As though by the hand of a master were the angel of his dream Limned on the missal-parchment: none looked on him, and forbore To own that so comely a hero had none seen theretofore. Then the knights that attended Kriemhild bade all to left and to right Avoid from the path, and obedient to the word was many a knight. What joy it was to behold them, that heart-uplifted throng, As the gentle-nurtured ladies all queenlike swept along!