Now the Danes are essaying how mighty are the broadswords that they wield:
Loud rang the clashing and clanging of shield that shocked on shield;
And the griding glaives keen-whetted made the hot blood spurt through the mail;
Nor for nought did the battle-fearless Saxons their foes assail.
Onward the fierce Burgundians through that war-thicket clave,
And many a wound wide-gaping they dealt with the deadly glaive.
All over the saddle-housings the blood ran streaming down:
So strove those dauntless champions for the winning of renown.
Far afront rang out the clashing of the helmet-sundering brand
In the grasp of the mightiest champions, where the knights of Netherland