Lament for Beowulf by Howard Hanson Lyrics
For him, then, they geared the folk of the Geats
A pile on the earth all unweak like that was
With war helms behung, and with boards of the battle
And bright byrnies, e'en after the boon that he bade
Laid down then amid most their king mighty, famous
The warriors lamenting the lief lord of them
Began on the burg of bale-fires the biggest
The warriors to waken: Haee! Yo! Haee! Yo! Ha!
The wood reek went up swart over the smoky glow
Sound of the flame, bewound with the weeping
The wind blending stilled, until it at last the bone house had broken
Hot at the heart, all unglad of mind with mood
Care they mourned their liege-lord's quelling
Likewise a sad lay the wife of aforetime
For Beowulf the king, with her hair all up bounden
Sang sorrow careful; said oft and over
That harm days for herself she dreaded, shaming and bondage
The slaughter falls many, much fear of the warrior
Ah! Heav'n swallowed the reek
Wrought there and fashioned the folk of the Weders
A howe on the lithe, that high was and broad
Unto the wave farers wide to be seen:
Then if they betimber'd in time of ten days
The battle's strong beacons, the brands' very leavings
They bewrought with a wall in the worthiest of ways
That men of all wisdom might find how to work
Into burg then did they the rings and bright sun-gems
And all such adornments as in the hoard there
The war minded men had taken e'en now
The earl's treasures they let the earth to be beholding
Gold in the grit, wherein yet it liveth
As useless to men as e'er it erst was
Then round the howe rode the deer of the battle
The bairns of the athelings; twelve were they in all
Their care would they mourn, and bemoan them their king
The word-lay they would utter and over the man speak
They accounted his earlship and mighty deeds done
And doughtily deemed them; as due it is
That each one his friend-lord with words should belaud
And love in his heart, when as forth shall he
Away from the body be fleeting at last
Ah!
In such wise they grieved, the folk of the Geats
For the fall of their lord, e'en they his hearth fellows
Quoth they that he was a world king forsooth
The mildest of all men, unto men kindest
To his folk the most gentlest, most yearning of fame
Ah!
A pile on the earth all unweak like that was
With war helms behung, and with boards of the battle
And bright byrnies, e'en after the boon that he bade
Laid down then amid most their king mighty, famous
The warriors lamenting the lief lord of them
Began on the burg of bale-fires the biggest
The warriors to waken: Haee! Yo! Haee! Yo! Ha!
The wood reek went up swart over the smoky glow
Sound of the flame, bewound with the weeping
The wind blending stilled, until it at last the bone house had broken
Hot at the heart, all unglad of mind with mood
Care they mourned their liege-lord's quelling
Likewise a sad lay the wife of aforetime
For Beowulf the king, with her hair all up bounden
Sang sorrow careful; said oft and over
That harm days for herself she dreaded, shaming and bondage
The slaughter falls many, much fear of the warrior
Ah! Heav'n swallowed the reek
Wrought there and fashioned the folk of the Weders
A howe on the lithe, that high was and broad
Unto the wave farers wide to be seen:
Then if they betimber'd in time of ten days
The battle's strong beacons, the brands' very leavings
They bewrought with a wall in the worthiest of ways
That men of all wisdom might find how to work
Into burg then did they the rings and bright sun-gems
And all such adornments as in the hoard there
The war minded men had taken e'en now
The earl's treasures they let the earth to be beholding
Gold in the grit, wherein yet it liveth
As useless to men as e'er it erst was
Then round the howe rode the deer of the battle
The bairns of the athelings; twelve were they in all
Their care would they mourn, and bemoan them their king
The word-lay they would utter and over the man speak
They accounted his earlship and mighty deeds done
And doughtily deemed them; as due it is
That each one his friend-lord with words should belaud
And love in his heart, when as forth shall he
Away from the body be fleeting at last
Ah!
In such wise they grieved, the folk of the Geats
For the fall of their lord, e'en they his hearth fellows
Quoth they that he was a world king forsooth
The mildest of all men, unto men kindest
To his folk the most gentlest, most yearning of fame
Ah!