Thus then, much care-worn, 
The son of Healfden 
Sorrowed evermore, 
Nor might the prudent hero 
His woes avert. 
The war was too hard, 
Too loath and longsome, 
That on the people came, 
Dire wrath and grim, 
Of night-woes the worst. 
This from home heard 
Higelac's Thane, 
Good among the Goths, 
Grendel's deeds. 
He was of mankind 
In might the strongest, 
At that day 
Of this life, 
Noble and stalwart. 
He bade him a sea-ship, 
A goodly one, prepare. 
Quoth he, the war-king, 
Over the swan's road, 
Seek he would 
The mighty monarch, 
Since he wanted men. 
For him that journey 
His prudent fellows 
Straight made ready, 
Those that loved him. 
They excited their souls, 
The omen they beheld. 
Had the good-man 
Of the Gothic people 
Champions chosen, 
Of those that keenest 
He might find, 
Some fifteen men. 
The sea-wood sought he. 
The warrior showed, 
Sea-crafty man! 
The land-marks, 
And first went forth. 
The ship was on the waves, 
Boat under the cliffs. 
The barons ready 
To the prow mounted. 
The streams they whirled 
The sea against the sands. 
The chieftains bore 
On the naked breast 
Bright ornaments, 
War-gear, Goth-like. 
The men shoved off, 
Men on their willing way, 
The bounden wood. 
Then went over the sea-waves, 
Hurried by the wind, 
The ship with foamy neck, 
Most like a sea-fowl, 
Till about one hour 
Of the second day 
The curved prow 
Had passed onward 
So that the sailors 
The land saw, 
The shore-cliffs shining, 
Mountains steep, 
And broad sea-noses. 
Then was the sea-sailing 
Of the Earl at an end. 
Then up speedily 
The Weather people 
On the land went, 
The sea-bark moored, 
Their mail-sarks shook, 
Their war-weeds. 
God thanked they, 
That to them the sea-journey 
Easy had been. 
Then from the wall beheld 
The warden of the Scyldings, 
He who the sea-cliffs 
Had in his keeping, 
Bear o'er the balks 
The bright shields, 
The war-weapons speedily. 
Him the doubt disturbed 
In his mind's thought, 
What these men might be. 
Went then to the shore, 
On his steed riding, 
The Thane of Hrothgar. 
Before the host he shook 
His warden's-staff in hand, 
In measured words demanded: 
'What men are ye 
War-gear wearing, 
Host in harness, 
Who thus the brown keel 
Over the water-street 
Leading come 
Hither over the sea? 
I these boundaries 
As shore-warden hold, 
That in the Land of the Danes 
Nothing loathsome 
With a ship-crew 
Scathe us might. . . . 
Ne'er saw I mightier 
Earl upon earth 
Than is your own, 
Hero in harness. 
Not seldom this warrior 
Is in weapons distinguished; 
Never his beauty belies him, 
His peerless countenance! 
Now would I fain 
Your origin know, 
Ere ye forth 
As false spies 
Into the Land of the Danes 
Farther fare. 
Now, ye dwellers afar-off! 
Ye sailors of the sea! 
Listen to my 
One-fold thought. 
Quickest is best 
To make known 
Whence your coming may be.'