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THE SONG OF THE SKALD.

Joined in the battle.

Two young kings,

Sons of the same fair mother,

Lay on the field of battle,

Lain to sleep with swords.

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Far away,

Far away in the Northland,

Down by the moaning sea,

Lies the form of a woman.

Slow, slow, slow,

Creep the waves up the beach toward her,

And they toy with her long, gold hair,

Gold as the summer sunbeam.

Roar, ye waves!

Roar the death-song of Kriemhilde!

For she was the mother of kings,

The daughter of princes.

STULTUS.

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