938

<poem>         Here Athelstan king,         of earls the lord,         rewarder of heroes,         and his brother eke,         Edmund atheling,         elder of ancient race,         slew in the fight,         with the edge of their swords,         the foe at Brumby!(41)         The sons of Edward         their board-walls clove,         and hewed their banners,         with the wrecks of their hammers.         So were they taught         by kindred zeal,         that they at camp oft         'gainst any robber         their land should defend,         their hoards and homes.         Pursuing fell         the Scottish clans;         the men of the fleet         in numbers fell;         'midst the din of the field         the warrior swate.         Since the sun was up         in morning-tide,         gigantic light!         glad over grounds,         God's candle bright,         eternal Lord!         'till the noble creature         sat in the western main:         there lay many         of the Northern heroes         under a shower of arrows,         shot over shields;         and Scotland's boast,         a Scythian race,         the mighty seed of Mars!         With chosen troops,         throughout the day,         the West-Saxons fierce         press'd on the loathed bands;         hew'd down the fugitives,         and scatter'd the rear,         with strong mill-sharpen'd blades,         The Mercians too         the hard hand-play         spared not to any         of those that with Anlaf         over the briny deep         in the ship's bosom         sought this land         for the hardy fight.         Five kings lay         on the field of battle,         in bloom of youth,         pierced with swords.         So seven eke         of the earls of Anlaf;         and of the ship's-crew         unnumber'd crowds.         There was dispersed         the little band         of hardy Scots,         the dread of northern hordes;         urged to the noisy deep         by unrelenting fate!         The king of the fleet         with his slender craft         escaped with his life         on the felon flood;         and so too Constantine,         the valiant chief,         returned to the north         in hasty flight.         The hoary Hildrinc         cared not to boast         among his kindred.         Here was his remnant         of relations and friends         slain with the sword         in the crowded fight.         His son too he left         on the field of battle,         mangled with wounds,         young at the fight.         The fair-hair'd youth         had no reason to boast         of the slaughtering strife.         Nor old Inwood         and Anlaf the more         with the wrecks of their army         could laugh and say,         that they on the field         of stern command         better workmen were,         in the conflict of banners,         the clash of spears,         the meeting of heroes,         and the rustling of weapons,         which they on the field         of slaughter played         with the sons of Edward.         The northmen sail'd         in their nailed ships,         a dreary remnant,         on the roaring sea;         over deep water         Dublin they sought,         and Ireland's shores,         in great disgrace.         Such then the brothers         both together         king and atheling,         sought their country,         West-Saxon land,         in right triumphant.         They left behind them         raw to devour,         the sallow kite,         the swarthy raven         with horny nib,         and the hoarse vultur,         with the eagle swift         to consume his prey;         the greedy gos-hawk,         and that grey beast         the wolf of the weald.         No slaughter yet         was greater made         e'er in this island,         of people slain,         before this same,         with the edge of the sword;         as the books inform us         of the old historians;         since hither came         from the eastern shores         the Angles and Saxons,         over the broad sea,         and Britain sought,         fierce battle-smiths,         o'ercame the Welsh,         most valiant earls,

        and gained the land.</poem>

(Ingram, p.84-87)