Enoch Powell: First Poems: VIII) Brynhild’s Lament

VIII) Brynhild’s Lament

Siegfried, Siegfried, soon to die,

Siegfried, ever born again,

Born again to die again

For ever,

Mine thou art before thy birth,

Mine thou art beyond the grave;

For the race whence thou art sprung

Fails not, Siegfried ever young,

But is

Deathless.

All thy elder brothers gone,

All thy younger, yet to come,

All are mine, and every one

As he passes drinks a draught

At the fountain of my heart,

But none

Lingers.

Some by horrid spell are changed

These to granite, those to brute;

Som are crushed in turning wheel,

Others rent by hungry steel,

But all

Perish.

Siegfried, Siegfried, soon to die,

Brynhild loves thee, Brynhild mourns thee,

Born to love as thou to die,

Born to die in thee I love

For ever.