The blood from the giant's throat was yet pouring over the hand of his foe, which still grasped the hilt of the dagger sheathed in the wound.

They lay silent.

I, the least worthy, remained the sole survivor in the lists.
As I stood exhausted amidst the dead, after the first worthy deed of my life, I suddenly looked behind me, and there lay the Shadow, black in the sunshine.

I went into the lonely tower, and there lay the useless armour of the noble youths--supine as they.
Ah, how sad it looked! It was a glorious death, but it was death.

My songs could not comfort me now.