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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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104 And in the barrow set they ring and gem and plate, And all the splendor-booty out of hoard of late Forth their hands had taken, urged by heads of hate. They gave the wealth of jarlmen to earth for to hold, Now where yet it liveth, in the mould, the gold, As useless unto mortals as it was of old. Then around the mound rode, with cry and call, Bairns of the aethelings, twelve of all, To mourn for their Master, their sorrow to sing, Framing a word-chant, speaking of the King: They vaunted his earlship, they honored doughtily His wonder- works of glory. Let it ever be, That heart of man shall cherish and word of man shall praise The Master-Friend, when in the end his spirit goes its ways. So the Geatish clansmen bemoaned their dearth, The passing-forth of Beowulf, these comrades of his hearth, Calling him a World- King, the mildest under crown, And to his kin the kindest, and keenest for renown. THE FIGHT AT FINNSBURG (A fragment of a lost ballad) [A watcher cried to clansmen]: “Our gables are aflame!” And thus the King made answer, the young in battle-fame: “That glare is not the sunrise, is not a dragon’s flight, Nor are aflame our gables here on hall tonight. But hither cometh, bearing Now sing the birds of prey, And the wolf, the grey-coat, howleth his cries; Resoundeth the spear-wood, shield to shaft replies. Now is shining yonder, under clouds, the moon; Now are deeds arising, to whelm my people soon. But wake ye now, my warsmen, lapped in linked mail, Resolve, and rage ye vanward, in mood that cannot quail.” Then rose the golden clansmen, and girt their swords amain; Then hastened to the doorway the noble heroes twain, Eaha and Sigeferth, and drew their blades before, While Ordlaf and Guthlaf sped to the other door, Whom himself did Hengest follow down the floor. Yet Guthere to Garulf was pleading out there, That he, a boy so high of birth, his weapon should forbear In the first encounter at the doors of hall, Lest Sigeferth, the veteran, wrest it him withal. But Garulf to the foeman shouted boldly o’er, Garulf, keen for contest: “Who is it holds the door?” “My name,” quoth he, “is Sigeferth-prince of the Secgas, son! A wanderer and warrior in many a battle won. Widely couth my war-work; and here awaiteth thee Whatever fate that thou, boy, think’st to seek from me.” Then was at the wall |
