“Then the warriors departed to go to their dwellings, Reaved of their friends, Friesland to visit, Their homes and high-city. Hengest continued Biding with Finn the blood-tainted winter, Wholly unsundered; of fatherland thought he Though unable to drive the ring-stemmèd vessel O’er the ways of the waters; the wave-deeps were tossing, Fought with the wind; winter in ice-bonds Closed up the currents, till there came to the dwelling A year in its course, as yet it revolveth, If season propitious one alway regardeth, World-cheering weathers. Then winter was gone, Earth’s bosom was lovely; the exile would get him, The guest from the palace; on gruesomest vengeance He brooded more eager than on oversea journeys, Whe’r onset-of-anger he were able to ’complish, The bairns of the Jutemen therein to remember. Nowise refused he the duties of liegeman When Hun of the Frisians the battle-sword Láfing, Fairest of falchions, friendly did give him: Its edges were famous in folk-talk of Jutland. And savage sword-fury seized in its clutches Bold-mooded Finn where he bode in his palace,