Early on the morrow morning, ere the sun had risen high, the peerless Kriemhild walked alone amid the sweet-scented of her rose-garden. The dewdrops still hung thick on flower and thorn, and the wild birds carolled their songs of merry welcome to the new-born day. Every thing seemed to have put on its handsomest colors, and to be using its sweetest voice, on purpose to gladden the heart of the . But Kriemhild was not happy. There was a shadow on her face and a sadness in her eye that the beauty and the music of that morning could not drive away.  
“What thee, my child?” asked her mother, Queen Ute, who met her. “Why so sad, as if thy heart were heavy with care? Has any one spoken unkindly, or has aught grievous happened to thee?”
 
“Oh, no, dearest mother!” said Kriemhild. “It is nothing that saddens me,—nothing but a foolish dream. I cannot forget it.”
 
“Tell me the dream,” said her mother: “mayhap it something that the Norns have written for thee.”
 
Then Kriemhild answered, “I dreamed that I sat at my window, high up in the eastern tower; and the sun shone bright in the heavens, and the air was mild and warm, and I thought of but the beauty and the gladness of the hour. Then in the far north I saw a flying. At first he seemed but a black in the sky; but swiftly he drew nearer and nearer, until at last he flew in at the open window, and I caught him in my arms. Oh, how strong and beautiful he was! His wings were purple and gold, and his eyes were as bright as the sun. Oh, a glorious prize I thought him! and I held him on my wrist, and kind words to him. Then suddenly, from out of the sky a............