Anglo-Saxon poetry - arras.net

troops, a path forward – after the detestedpeople! They cut down fugitives fiercely frombehind with swords grindstone-sharp.TheMercians refused rough hand-play to none,not one hero, who, in ships’ wombs, hadsought land with Anlaf,over the sea’sclamor – but doomed in battle! Five youngkings – enslumbered by the sword! – lay onthe slaughter-field. Andseven Earls ofAnlaf! numberless shipmen, and of the army,and Scots. The Northerns’ leader was pushedto flight, forced to the ship’sprow with atrifling corps. The ship crowded onto the sea– the king flew! forth on the darkening sea,salvaged his life. OldConstantine alsojourneyed north, to his native land! Hoarywarrior – now, not able to exult in swungswords! Thrashed of kinsmen,thrust frompg. 1 0