time-long the kin

thout ceasing, nor m

oe, for o'er stro

ongsome late lai

nithing, of night-

s home heard the

eat-folk; of Grende

nkind of might a

we tell of, the

ng-waxen. He ba

ar'd him, and quoth

wan-road he wo

r-famed, since l

faring the carl

on him, though l

whetted they,

od one, e'en he

chosen of them

s needs; and he t

nd-wood. A swain

, all the make o

hile, on the wave

e berg, and yare

stem; the strea

the sands. Upbor

s barm the bright

tely; then out th

lcome way shov'd o

d driven out o'

eck'd floater mos

same tide of the s

out-stemm'd one

that sail'd her ha

e sea-cliffs, ber

reaching; the so

ended: then up

Weder-folk up

sea-wood, their sa

battle, and God

e wave-ways were

wall saw the Scyl

he holm-cliffs sho

gangway the bright

l ready. Then min

s mood to wot who

far'd he his fai

nd full strongly th

s hands, and in coun

then of them th

rded, who the kee

street thus ha

holm-ways hiei

s I, a-holdin

the Dane-folk n

ip-horde ever

een seeking mor

than ye, and ye

of war naught

kinsmen. But no ma

earth than one

ar-gear: no hall

-beworthy'd, but h

once only. Now

ur kindred ere f

false spies in th

ield. So now,

sea-flood, this

thought: and hast

it of whence