NEVER again the galley under sail
Shall by the shining cliffs and forelands steer;
No more the Warden of the Coast shall hail
The bold seafarers in their battle gear;
The treasure-blade, the cup of price, the spear
Rust in the burial mound with helm and mail;
No more of Dragon's den and misty mere,
Of Grendel and his Dam shall be the tale.
Hrothgar is gone, and Wiglaf long ago
At the last rampart met the stroke of fate;
No journeys now the byrnie by his side
Makes with the Earl, or Atheling lying low;
Nor thee a second time can Time create,
Viking and kinsman, in thy mournful pride.