Whene’er she threw the javelin
she next would hurl this stone.
Then did the stout Burgundians
within their spirit groan:
“God help us!” cried Sir Hagen,
“what bride our king hath woo’d!
Hell were her proper sojourn,
she’s of the Devil’s brood!”
Whene’er she threw the javelin
she next would hurl this stone.
Then did the stout Burgundians
within their spirit groan:
“God help us!” cried Sir Hagen,
“what bride our king hath woo’d!
Hell were her proper sojourn,
she’s of the Devil’s brood!”