Chapter XXVI: Hrothgar Moralizes.--rest After Labor

{A wounded spirit.}

"Then bruised in his bosom he with bitter-toothed missile
Is hurt 'neath his helmet: from harmful pollution
He is powerless to shield him by the wonderful mandates
Of the loath-cursèd spirit; what too long he hath holden
5 Him seemeth too small, savage he hoardeth,
Nor boastfully giveth gold-plated rings,[1]
The fate of the future flouts and forgetteth
Since God had erst given him greatness no little,
Wielder of Glory. His end-day anear,
10 It afterward happens that the bodily-dwelling
Fleetingly fadeth, falls into ruins;
Another...