Explore "The Words of Beowulf, Son of Egtheof. from the Anglo Saxon" by George Borrow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Every one beneath the heaven / Should of death expect the day, / And let him, whilst life is given, / Bright with fame his name array.
For amongst the countless number / In the clay-cold grave at rest, / Lock'd in arms of iron slumber, / He most happy is and blest.