<p> LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings </p><p> of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped, </p><p> we have heard, and what honor the athelings won! </p><p> Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes, </p><p> from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore, </p><p> awing the earls. Since erst he lay </p><p> friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him: </p><p> for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve, </p><p> till before him the folk, both far and near, </p><p> who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate, </p><p> gave him gifts: a good king he! </p><p> To him an heir was afterward born, </p><p> a son in his halls, whom heaven sent </p><p> to favor the folk, feeling their woe </p><p> that erst they had lacked an earl for leader </p><p> so long a while; the Lord endowed him, </p><p> the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown. </p><p> Famed was this Beowulf:[1] far flew the boast of him, </p><p> son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands. </p><p> So becomes it a youth to quit him well </p><p> with his father's friends, by fee and gift, </p><p> that to aid him, aged, in after days, </p><p> come warriors willing, should war draw nigh, </p><p> liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds </p><p> shall an earl have honor in every clan. </p><p> Forth he fared at the fated moment, </p><p> sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God. </p><p> Then they bore him over to ocean's billow, </p><p> loving clansmen, as late he charged them, </p><p> while wielded words the winsome Scyld, </p><p> the leader beloved who long had ruled.... </p><p> In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel, </p><p> ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge: </p><p> there laid they down their darling lord </p><p> on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,</p><p> by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure </p><p> fetched from far was freighted with him. </p><p> No ship have I known so nobly dight </p><p> with weapons of war and weeds of battle, </p><p> with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay </p><p> a heaped hoard that hence should go </p><p> far o'er the flood with him floating away. </p><p> No less these loaded the lordly gifts, </p><p> thanes' huge treasure, than those had done </p><p> who in former time forth had sent him </p><p> sole on the seas, a suckling child. </p><p> High o'er his head they hoist the standard, </p><p> a gold-wove banner; let billows take him, </p><p> gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits, </p><p> mournful their mood. No man is able </p><p> to say in sooth, no son of the halls, </p><p> no hero 'neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight!</p>