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The birds came to tell Siegfried a story, A story of the woods out of a tree: How the ring was fairy And there were things it could do for him Day and night: How the river flowed green and wavy Under the Rainbow Bridge, And Brunnhilda slept in a wreath of fire. Grane watched her, standing close beside, Grane the big white horse, Dear Grane of her heart. She dreamed she was far from her father, But Siegfried was coming, Siegfried, through the big trees, Up the hill, Through the fire! |