Henry Song ’21
[Beowulf Fights Ohthere] For fifty frosts the fine king fares, Aging along with his acclaimed kingdom. A golden age of good and God Seemed to all surely to stay. But beware, Beowulf, of a great bane, A robust rival that roars with rage. Overbold Ohthere, offspring of Ongentheow, Agitated angrily by the acts of another, Sought to slay the Geats with his Swedes. A wearisome war he wages, A challenge calling for the Grendel-killer. Slowly down he saunters with his stalwart Swedes, Scoffing and sneering at the splendid scenery. The mighty marching was heard in Heorot, And Beowulf assembles his army for arrival. The coward comes at the cusp of dusk, Hoping to have a handsome holiday Before battering Beowulf’s bounds. The warriors wallop the walls wildly, So the simple stockades start to shatter. Overweening Ohthere offends the other, Grandly gloating, “The great Geats, Known as the keen and kind kin, Before me they bow basely!” The scathing Swede sets forth boasts sneeringly, His wicked words wounding Beowulf, Making the monster-plague manful and mad. “Rise!” the raging ruler roars, “These Swedes seek superb slaughter, Hammering our halls, horribly hell-bent. Death they desire, and death does not deny!”
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