I

With weapons of warfare, weeds for the battle, Bills and burnies; on his bosom sparkled Many a jewel that with him must travel On the flush of the flood afar on the current. And favors no fewer they furnished him soothly, Excellent folk-gems, than others had given him Who when first he was born outward did send him Lone on the main, the merest of infants: And a gold-fashioned standard they stretched under heaven High o’er his head, let the holm-currents bear him, Seaward consigned him: sad was their spirit, Their mood very mournful. Men are not able Soothly to tell us, they in halls who reside, Heroes under heaven, to what haven he hied.