'Why sittest in my seat, youth?
Thou seldom sure hast given
To wolf his warm flesh-banquet.
Alone I will mine own.
O'er carrion course thou heard'st not
Croak hoarse the joying raven,
Nor wentest where sword-edges
In warfare madly met.'

'With bloody brand on-striding
Me bird of bane hath followed:
My hurtling spear hath sounded
In the swift Vikings' charge.
Raged wrathfully our battle,
Ran fire o'er foemen's rooftrees;
Sound sleepeth many a warrior
Slain in the city gate.'

They two then drank together for the evening, and were right merry.
The banquet was of the best, on that day and on the morrow.
Then the rovers went to their ships, they and the earl parting in friendship
with exchange of gifts.