the Goth,
Bearing the gifts and the gold, the ring, and the tokens of troth.
But the King's heart laughed within him and the King's sons deemed
it good;
For they dreamed how they fared with the Goths o'er ocean and acre
and wood,
Till all the north was theirs, and the utmost southern lands.

But nought said the snow-white Signy as she sat with folded hands
And gazed at the Goth-king's Earl till his heart grew heavy and cold,
As one that half remembers a tale that the elders have told,
A story of weird and of woe: then spake King Volsung and said:

"A great king woos thee, daughter; wilt thou lie in a great king's bed,
And bear earth's kings on thy bosom, that our name may never die?"

A fire lit up her face, and her voice was e'en as a cry:
"I will sleep in a great king's bed, I will bear the lords of the
earth,
And the wrack and the grief of my youth-days shall be held for
nothing worth."

Then would he question her kindly, as one who loved her sore,
But she put forth her hand and smiled, and her face was flushed no more
"Would God it might otherwise be! but wert thou to will it not,
Yet should I will it and wed him, and rue my life and my lot."

Lowly and soft she said it; but spake out louder now:
"Be of good cheer, King Volsung! for such a man art thou,
That what thou dost well-counselled, goodly and fair it is,