But therein are the torches tossing, and the shields of men upborne, And the death-blades yet unbloodied cast up 'twixt bowl and horn, And all rest of heart is departed as men speak of the mirk-wood's ways, And the fame of outland countries, and the green sea's troublous days.
"The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs"
William Morris
Turned Hogni unto the spear-wall, and smote from where he stood, And hewed with his sword two-handed as the axe-man in a wood: Before his sword was a champion and the edges clave to the chin, And the first man fell in the feast-hall of those that should fall therein, Then man with man was dealing, and the Niblung host of war Was swept by the leaping iron, as the rock anigh the shore By the ice-cold waves of winter: yet a moment Gunnar stayed, As high in his hand unbloodied he shook his awful blade; And he cried: O Eastland champions, do ye behold it here, The sword of the ancient Giuki?
"The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of the Niblungs"
William Morris