Fast flew the shield-clasps, severed
by mighty Siegfried’s hand.
He thought himself the victor,
this prince of Netherland,
Over the dauntless Saxons;—
so many wounded lay.
Ha, how the bright mail-armour
at Dankwart’s strokes did fray!
Fast flew the shield-clasps, severed
by mighty Siegfried’s hand.
He thought himself the victor,
this prince of Netherland,
Over the dauntless Saxons;—
so many wounded lay.
Ha, how the bright mail-armour
at Dankwart’s strokes did fray!