Miss M is running up and down right now singing "Defer, defer, to the Lord High Exutioner!" at the top of her lungs (the right tune too). Brother J has just gotten out of his heavy PVC mail hauberk (which he had on for hours) and is helping our mom make dinner while I read Beowulf aloud.
"Lo, so may he say who sooth and right
follows ’mid folk, of far times mindful,
a land-warden old, that this earl belongs
to the better breed! So, borne aloft,
thy fame must fly, O friend my Beowulf,
far and wide o’er folksteads many."
follows ’mid folk, of far times mindful,
a land-warden old, that this earl belongs
to the better breed! So, borne aloft,
thy fame must fly, O friend my Beowulf,
far and wide o’er folksteads many."
Prophetic, Hrothgar. Prophetic.
|