This page has been validated.
VOLSUNGS AND NIBLUNGS.
121
All waves of ill
Wash over thy mind,
To seven great kings
Hast thou been a sore sorrow,
And the death of good will
To wives and women.”

Then spake Brynhild,
Budli’s daughter—
“None but Atli
Brought bale upon us,
My very brother
Born of Budli.

When we saw in the hall
Of the Hunnish people
The gold a-gleaming
On the kingly Giukings;
I have paid for that faring
Oft and full,
And for the sight
That then I saw.”

By a pillar she stood
And strained its wood to her;
From the eyes of Brynhild,
Budli’s daughter,
Flashed out fire,
And she snorted forth venom,
As the sore wounds she gazed on
Of the dead-slain Sigurd.