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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=346011" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Episode 43</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THEN fashioned for him the folk of Geats<br>firm on the earth a funeral-pile,<br>and hung it with helmets and harness of war<br>and breastplates bright, as the boon he asked;<br>and they laid amid it the mighty chieftain,<br>heroes mourning their master dear.<br>Then on the hill that hugest of balefires<br>the warriors wakened. Wood-smoke rose<br>black over blaze, and blent was the roar<br>of flame with weeping (the wind was still),<br>till the fire had broken the frame of bones,<br>hot at the heart. In heavy mood<br>their misery moaned they, their master's death.<br>Wailing her woe, the widow old,<br>her hair upbound, for Beowulf's death<br>sung in her sorrow, and said full oft<br>she dreaded the doleful days to come,<br>deaths enow, and doom of battle,<br>and shame. -- The smoke by the sky was devoured.<br>The folk of the Weders fashioned there<br>on the headland a barrow broad and high,<br>by ocean-farers far descried:<br>in ten days' time their toil had raised it,<br>the battle-brave's beacon. Round brands of the pyre<br>a wall they built, the worthiest ever<br>that wit could prompt in their wisest men.<br>They placed in the barrow that precious booty,<br>the rounds and the rings they had reft erewhile,<br>hardy heroes, from hoard in cave, --<br>trusting the ground with treasure of earls,<br>gold in the earth, where ever it lies<br>useless to men as of yore it was.<br>Then about that barrow the battle-keen rode,<br>atheling-born, a band of twelve,<br>lament to make, to mourn their king,<br>chant their dirge, and their chieftain honor.<br>They praised his earlship, his acts of prowess<br>worthily witnessed: and well it is<br>that men their master-friend mightily laud,<br>heartily love, when hence he goes<br>from life in the body forlorn away. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus made their mourning the men of Geatland,<br>for their hero's passing his hearth-companions:<br>quoth that of all the kings of earth,<br>of men he was mildest and most beloved,<br>to his kin the kindest, keenest for praise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anonymous+Olde+English">Anonymous Olde English</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=346011" data-title="Episode 43 de Anonymous Olde English" data-description="THEN fashioned for him the folk of Geats
firm on the earth a funeral-pile,
and hung it with helmets and harness of war
and breastplates bright, as the boon he asked;
and they laid amid it the mighty chieftain,
heroes mourning their master dear.
Th..."></div>
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