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LAMENT OF BRÜNHILDE
187
When hot tears—not mine—are shed
For thee, my dead!
When thy foes in vain repent,
Hopeless, for thy ruin languish,
When Valhalla's towers are rent
In remembrance of my anguish!...
Godlike hero, thou and I
Loved as none should love who die!
Dost thou call? Thy funeral pyre,
Kindling higher,
Weds me to my destiny.
Bridegroom! lover! last desire!
Thou who crossed the flames to me!—
Swift to thee I mount through fire!
