’TWAS now, men say, in his sovran’s need

that the earl made known his noble strain,

craft and keenness and courage enduring.

Heedless of harm, though his hand was burned,

hardy-hearted, he helped his kinsman.

A little lower the loathsome beast

he smote with sword; his steel drove in

bright and burnished; that blaze began

to lose and lessen. At last the king

wielded his wits again, war-knife drew,

a biting blade by his breastplate hanging,

and the Weders’-helm smote that worm asunder,

felled the foe, flung forth its life.

So had they killed it, kinsmen both,

athelings twain: thus an earl should be

in danger’s day! — Of deeds of valor

this conqueror’s-hour of the king was last,

of his work in the world. The wound began,

which that dragon-of-earth had erst inflicted,

to swell and smart; and soon he found

in his breast was boiling, baleful and deep,

pain of poison. The prince walked on,

wise in his thought, to the wall of rock;

then sat, and stared at the structure of giants,

where arch of stone and steadfast column

upheld forever that hall in earth.

Yet here must the hand of the henchman peerless

lave with water his winsome lord,

the king and conqueror covered with blo............