Beowulf

Forth he fared at the fated moment,

sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.

Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,

loving clansmen, as late he charged them,

while wielded words the winsome Scyld,

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Post1

wielding the war-wood to win thy triumph the bravest and best that broke the rings, let our hoards be common, let heroes with gold and made our boast, -- we were merely boys,