The Glory of the Spear-Danes

“Hwæt! Wē Gār-Dena in geār-dagum
þēod-cyninga þrym gefrūnon,
hū þā æðelingas ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scēfing sceaðena þrēatum,
monegum mǣgðum meodo-setla oftēah.
Egsode eorlas, syððan ǣrest wearð
fēasceaft funden: hē þæs frōfre gebād,
wēox under wolcnum, weorð-myndum ðāh,
oð þæt him ǣghwylc þāra ymb-sittendra
ofer hron-rāde hȳran scolde,
gomban gyldan. Þæt wæs gōd cyning!”
― Anonymous, Beowulf

Lo! We have heard of the glory of the spear-Danes in days of yore,
of their noble kings, how those princes performed deeds of valour.
Often Scyld Scefing from enemy hosts,
many a mead-seat took away.
He terrified earls, after he first found
a wretched child: for him they awaited comfort,
grew under heaven, throve in honour,
until every one of those dwelling around
over the whale-road had to heed him,
pay tribute. That was a good king!