Beowulf

XXXI

To Beowulf then the bale was told

quickly and truly: the king's own home,

of buildings the best, in brand-waves melted,

that gift-throne of Geats. To the good old man

sad in heart, 'twas heaviest sorrow.

The sage assumed that his sovran God

he had angered, breaking ancient law,

and embittered the Lord. His breast within

with black thoughts welled, as his wont was never.

The folk's own fastness that fiery dragon

with flame had destroyed, and the stronghold all

washed by waves; but the warlike king,

prince of the Weders, plotted vengeance.

Warriors'-bulwark, he bade them work

all of iron -- the earl's commander --

a war-shield wondrous: well he knew

that forest-wood against fire were worthless,

linden could aid not. -- Atheling brave,

he was fated to finish this fleeting li