ABSTRACT
They saw the land of Attila and deep-plunging gate-towers, On the high fortress Bikki’s battalion stands, The palace of southern nations, set out with timber benches, With rim-girt targes, with gleaming shields, There were fl agged lances, and there Attila drank Wine in a choice hall. Sentries there sat outside To watch for Gunnarr’s men lest they come calling With shrill spear to rouse the chief to battle.
