190 The King of creation, the kindest of Lords,

Sends the first beams of light, bring forth your linden-shields,

Boards for your breasts and your burnie-corselets,

Your bright-hammered helmets to the hosts of the scathers,

To fell the folk-leaders, the fated chieftains,

195 With your fretted swords. Your foes are all

Doomed to the death, and dearly-won glory

Shall be yours in battle, as the blessed Creator

The mighty Master, through me has made known.”

4. The Battle