“The foam flocked her neck, she flew like a bird.
As they sailed the sea gray, at the second day out.”
Battle Tested
“In his time, battle-tested, he was tried and was ready.
High-hearted and huge, he held out the order
To fit and to fashion a famous wave-cutter,
To sail the swan-road to serve the Dane king.”
Chrestomathy Template
“Weary, they wavered at times, worshiping idols,
Summoning sacrifices, saying old words aloud,
Praying the demon who damns would deliver them.
Old customs were curious but comfort was missing . . .”
(Beowulf, pp. 12-13
Grendel in Greed
“So Grendel in greed held goodness at bay,
One against all, that one against many,
Till greed toppled greatness. The ghost all, deserted,
Stood wasted twelve winters of woes in their seasons.”
The Gift of Creation
God “summoned the splendor of sun and of moon,
Lifting as lamps their lights for earthwaru.
He filled all the fields with fruit for the tasting,
He gave us such greenery, good leaves and branches.”
A Demon Demented
“Now a demon demented, in darkness a prowler,
Held a hard grudge when he heard with great pain
The great and the good with glory were feasting,
The scop sang their songs, the strings were well played,
The harp filled the hall, a herald of joy.
So skilled in his singing, he sang the creation . . .”
A Grim Invitation
“So he kept his kingly word and came with rings,
Treasures, and torques, the tables were heaped,
The hall reared up high, with horn-gabled corners,
Baiting the battle-flames; that burning would come.”
Beowulf, p. 9
Burial at Sea
“Silent, sheathed in ice, the ship rode the harbor,
The ring prow was ready, and rigged for the journey,
They laid out their lord, beloved by all of them.”
Beowulf, p. 8
Tough and Good
“Shield Sheafson was one, scourge of all tribes
Took a maul to the mead-benches, mangled his enemies . . .
A torrent of terror, war tested his mettle . . .
The whale-road was wide, but his warriors still crossed it.
Gold came, and glory . . . a good king that was.”
Beowulf, p. 7
Or Maybe a Lot
“As Ovid taught us long ago, Ars est celare artem. It is art to conceal the places where you jiggered it a bit.”
Beowulf, p. 4