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Beowulf: An Anglo-Saxon Epic Poem - Unknown ยท 80 words
The friend of the Scyldings, with gold that was plated, With ornaments many, much requited me, 70 When daylight had dawned, and down to the banquet We had sat us together. There was chanting and joyance. The age stricken Scylding asked many questions 72 And of old times related; oft light ringing harp strings, Joy telling wood, were touched by the brave one; 75 Now he uttered measures, mourning and truthful, Then the large hearted land king a legend of.
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