And oft he thinketh on Signy and oft he nameth her name,
And tells how she spent her joyance and her life-days and her fame
That the Volsung kin might blossom and bear the fruit of worth
For the hope of unborn people and the harvest of the earth.
And again he thinks of the word that he spake that other day,
How he should abide there lonely when his kin was passed away,
Their glory and sole avenger, their after-summer seed.
But far and wide went Sinfiotli through the earth, mowing the war
swathe and wasting the land, and passing but little time in song and
laughter in his father's hall. So went his days in warfare and valour,
and yet his end was not glorious, for he drank of the poisoned cup
given him by the sister of a warrior he had rightly slain.
None might come nigh Sigmund in his anguish as he lifted the head of
his fallen foster-child, and then swiftly bare him from the hall. On
he went through dark thicket and over wind-swept heath, past the
foot-hills and the homes of the deer, till he came to a great rushing
water, whereon was a white-sailed boat, manned by a mighty man,
"one-eyed and seeming ancient." This mighty one told Sigmund he had
been bidden to waft a great king over the water, and bade him lay his
burden on board, but when Sigmund would have followed he could see
neither ship nor man.
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