William Morris,
A Selection from the Poems of William Morris
“ And he turned and looked on Sigurd, as bright in the sun he stood, A stripling fair and slender, and wiped the Wrath of the blood. But Regin cried: "O Dwarf-kind, O many-shifting folk, O shapes of might and wonder, am I too freed from the yoke, That binds my soul to my body a withered thing forlorn, While the short-lived fools of man-folk so fair and oft are born? Now swift in the air shall I be, and young in the concourse of kings, If my heart shall come to desire the gain of earthly things." ”
