Rings of red gold
Will thy brother give thee,
And the stead of Vandil
And the lands of Vigdale;
Have half of the land
For thy sorrow's healing,
O ring-arrayed sweetling
For thee and thy sons!
SIGRUN:
No more sit I happy
At Sevafell;
At day-dawn, at night
Naught love I my life
Till broad o'er the people
My lord's light breaketh;
Till his war-horse runneth
Beneath him hither,
Well wont to the gold bit --
Till my king I welcome.
In such wise did Helgi
Deal fear around
To all his foes
And all their friends
As when the goat runneth
Before the wolf's rage
Filled with mad fear
Down from the fell.
As high above all lords
Did Helgi beat him
As the ash-tree's glory
From the thorn ariseth,
Or as the fawn
With the dew-fell sprinkled
Is far above
All other wild things,
As his horns go gleaming
'Gainst the very heavens.
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