Dead all round were they lying, the men foredoomed death's…

Dead all round were they lying, the men foredoomed death's prey: Hewn in twain in the midmost of all a dead Queen lay! Dietrich and King Etzel into sudden weeping broke, And a bitter voice of wailing went up from all the folk. There was the might and the glory of heroes in death laid low; And the people had for their portion lamentation and mourning and woe. This was the dolorous ending of a great king's festival! So ever is sorrow begotten of joy at the end of all.

What things befell thereafter in the land no minstrel hath sung, Save that ever the voice of weeping from Christian and Heathen rung, Weeping of knights and ladies, and of many a maiden fair: Whelmed in abysses of sorrow for the loved and the lost they were. (C) Ah no, no more can I tell you of a people's misery. There are the mighty fallen—in silence let them lie. I can bring not from years forgotten that nation's after-fate. The Lay is ended—the Story of the Niblungs' Bitter Strait.