Classic Poem

1936

Now may ye hear a wondrous / tale of honor told:
Of squires full nine thousand / soon in death lay cold,
And eke good knights a dozen / there of Dankwart's band.
Forlorn ye saw him only / the last amid his foemen stand.

1937

The din at last was ended / and lulled the battle-sound,
When the valiant Dankwart / did cast a glance around.
" Alack for my companions, " / cried he, " now from me reft.
Alack that I now only / forlorn amid my foes am left. "

1938

The swords upon his body / fell full thick and fast,
Which rashness many a warrior's / widow mourned at last.
His shield he higher lifted / and drew the strap more low:
Down coats of ring-made armor / made he the ebbing blood to flow.

1939

" O woe is me! " spake Dankwart, / the son of Aldrian
" Now back, ye Hunnish fighters, / let me the open gain,
That the air give cooling / to me storm-weary wight. "
In splendid valor moving / strode forward then anew the knight.

1940

As thus he battle-weary / through the hall's portal sprang,
What swords of new-come fighters / upon his helmet rang!
They who not yet had witnessed / what wonders wrought his hand,
Rashly rushed they forward / to thwart him of Burgundian land.

1941

" Now would to God, " quoth Dankwart, / " I found a messenger
Who to my brother Hagen / might the tidings bear,
That 'fore host of foemen / in such sad case am I!
From hence he'd surely help me, / or by my side he slain would lie. "

1942

Then Hunnish knights gave answer: / " Thyself the messenger
Shalt be, when to thy brother / thee a corse we bear.
So shall that thane of Gunther / first true sorrow know.
Upon the royal Etzel / here hast thou wrought so grievous woe. "

1943

Quoth he: " Now leave such boasting / and yield me passage free,
Else shall mail-rings a many / with blood bespattered be.
Myself will tell the tidings / soon at Etzel's court,
And eke unto my masters / of this my travail make report. "

1944

Etzel's men around him / belabored he so sore
That they at sword-point / durst not withstand him more.
Spears shot into his shield he / so many there did stop
That he the weight unwieldy / must from out his hand let drop.

1945

Then thought they to subdue him / thus of his shield bereft,
But lo! the mighty gashes / wherewith he helmets cleft!
Must there keen knights full many / before him stagger down,
High praise the valiant Dankwart / thereby for his valor won.

1946

On right side and on left side / they still beset his way,
Yet many a one too rashly / did mingle in the fray.
Thus strode he 'mid the foemen / as doth in wood the boar
By yelping hounds beleaguered; / more stoutly fought he ne'er before.

1947

As there he went, his pathway / with reeking blood was wet.
Yea, never any hero / more bravely battled yet
When by foes surrounded, / than he did might display.
To court did Hagen's brother / with splendid valor make his way.

1948

When stewards and cup-bearers / heard how sword-blades rung,
Many a brimming goblet / from their hands they flung
And eke the viands ready / that they to table bore;
Thus many doughty foemen / withstood him where he sought the door.

1949

" How now, ye stewards? " / cried the weary knight;
" 'Twere better that ye tended / rather your guests aright,
Bearing to lords at table / choice food that fitteth well,
And suffered me these tidings / unto my masters dear to tell. "

1950

Whoe'er before him rashly / athwart the stairway sprung,
On him with blow so heavy / his mighty sword he swung,
That soon faint heart gave warning / before his path to yield.
Mickle wonder wrought he / where sword his doughty arm did wield.