hand. But though I leave the world masterless, I give it this precious
treasure. In joy or in suffering, happiness can alone come from love."
She seizes a burning brand, and invoking Loge, god of fire, flings it
into the pyre. Her horse is brought to her, and she proudly mounts
it:--

"Grane, my horse,
Hail to thee here!
Knowest thou, friend,
How far I shall need thee?
Heiaho! Grane!
Greeting to him.
Siegfried! See, Brünnhilde
Joyously hails thee, thy bride."

She swings herself upon her steed and dashes into the furious flames.
At last they die away, and the Rhine rushes forward from its banks and
covers the pyre. The exultant Rhine-daughters are swimming in the
flood, for Brünnhilde has thrown them the ring. Hagen makes a last
desperate effort to clutch it, but Woglinde and Wellgunde wind their
arms about him, and as they drag him into the depths Flosshilde holds
the ring above the waters, and the exultant song of the
Rhine-daughters is heard above the swelling tide, while far in the
distance a red flame spreads among the clouds. Walhalla is blazing in
the sky. The Dusk of the Gods has come. Reparation has been made. The
hero without fear is victorious. Free will, independent of the gods,
will rule the world, and the gods themselves are lost in the human
creation. Love is given to men, and conquers death.