Then a red flush riseth against him in the face ne'er seen before, Save dimly in the mirror or the burnished targe of war, And the foster-brethren sunder, and the clasped hands fall apart; But a change cometh over Sigurd, and the fierce pride leaps in his heart; He knoweth the soul of Gunnar, and the shaping of his mind; He seeketh the words of Sigurd, and Gunnar's voice doth he find, As he cries: "I know thy bidding; let the world be lief or loth, The child is unborn that shall hearken how Sigurd rued his oath! Well fare thou brother Gunnar! what deed shall I do this eve That I shall never repent of, that thine heart shall never grieve? What deed shall I do this even that none else may bring to the birth, Nay, not the King of the Niblungs, and the lord of the best of the earth?" The flames rolled up to the heavens, and the stars behind were bright, Dark Hogni sat on his war-steed, and stared out into the night, And there stood Gunnar the King in Sigurd's semblance wrapped, --As Sigurd walking in slumber, for in Grimhild's guile was he lapped, That his heart forgat his glory, and the ways of Odin's lords, And the thought was frozen within him, and the might of spoken words. But Sigurd leapeth on Greyfell, and the sword in his hand is bare, And the gold spurs flame on his heels, and the fire-blast lifteth his hair; Forth Greyfell bounds rejoicing, and they see the grey wax red, As unheard the war-gear clasheth, and the flames meet over his head, Yet a while they see him riding, as through the rye men ride, When the word goes forth in the summer of the kings by the ocean-side; But the fires were slaked before him and the wild-fire burned no more Than the ford of the summer waters when the rainy time is o'er.