 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
Sons.
What of those pirates, father, then became?
Cædmon.
What of those pirates, father, then became?
Cædmon.
Rowers, stole privily up, from his long ship,
In wan moonlight, in reverence of his corse.
In so great hazard, for blood-brotherhood;
(Their Country's Custom,) plight to their own deaths;
Led by one Thorolf the Deads foster-sire,
And lodesman of his keel, found Bloodaxe where
He lay, in bloody dew, gaping upright;
Mongst slain men, fallen on thát down-trodden grass.
In wan moonlight, in reverence of his corse.
In so great hazard, for blood-brotherhood;
(Their Country's Custom,) plight to their own deaths;
Led by one Thorolf the Deads foster-sire,
And lodesman of his keel, found Bloodaxe where
He lay, in bloody dew, gaping upright;
Mongst slain men, fallen on thát down-trodden grass.
In spilth of rotten gore did slide their feet.
Silent, with snarling wolves, their hands did fight;
And ravens foul, that corses gnawed and rent.
Corses, which lay along, like wind-cast shocks,
In harvest field.
Silent, with snarling wolves, their hands did fight;
And ravens foul, that corses gnawed and rent.
Corses, which lay along, like wind-cast shocks,
In harvest field.
Setting the fitful Moon:
They, in haste 'gan raise him, on their cónjoined shields.
(Those champions were;) whilst other saved the arms,
And mail-sarks, ón the breasts of fallen warriors.
They bare him then, great burden, by turns, downforth;
Cursing that fatal day, under their breaths;
And his false weirds, for his untimely death.
They, in haste 'gan raise him, on their cónjoined shields.
159
And mail-sarks, ón the breasts of fallen warriors.
They bare him then, great burden, by turns, downforth;
Cursing that fatal day, under their breaths;
And his false weirds, for his untimely death.
Sigfried, a lad, whom ye, (now old,) have seen,
A widows fisher-son, beheld their deeds:
(Had he been parted, sith day-dawn, from us;)
Gazing from covert brow, of cliff above.
A widows fisher-son, beheld their deeds:
(Had he been parted, sith day-dawn, from us;)
Gazing from covert brow, of cliff above.
Come to waves'-foot, those bearers of his corse;
Found haled to land, War-raven, the lords great ship,
Of sixty oars. There having washed his wounds;
And those gore-clottered fair ringed-locks of his:
With mourning companies, from the other keels;
They filled the wide fore-shore, with funeral yells.
Found haled to land, War-raven, the lords great ship,
Of sixty oars. There having washed his wounds;
And those gore-clottered fair ringed-locks of his:
With mourning companies, from the other keels;
They filled the wide fore-shore, with funeral yells.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |