Ballads and Other Poems/Translations/The Battle of Brunanburh

by Alfred Tennyson

For other versions of this work, see Battle of Brunanburh.

The Battle of Brunanburh

Constantinus, King of the Scots, after having sworn allegiance to Athelstan, allied himself with the Danes of Ireland under Anlaf, and invading England, was defeated by Athelstan and his brother Edmund with great slaughter at Brunanburh in the year 937.

I.  ^[1]Athelstan King,  Lord among Earls,  Bracelet-bestower and  Baron of Barons,  He with his brother,  Edmund Atheling,  Gaining a lifelong  Glory in battle,  Slew with the sword-edge  There by Brunanburh,  Brake the shield-wall,  Hew’d the linden-wood,^[2]  Hack’d the battle-shield, Sons of Edward with hammer’d brands.

II.  Theirs was a greatness  Got from their Grandsires —  Theirs that so often in  Strife with their enemiesStruck for their hoards and their hearths and their homes.

III.  Bow’d the spoiler,  Bent the Scotsman,  Fell the ship-crews  Doom’d to the death. All the field with blood of the fighters  Flow'd, from when first the great  Sun-star of morning-tide,  Lamp of the Lord God  Lord everlasting, Glode over earth till the glorious creatureSunk to his setting.

IV.  There lay many a man  Marr'd by the javelin,  Men of the Northland  Shot over shield.  There was the Scotsman  Weary of war.

V.  We the West-Saxons,  Long as the daylight  Lasted, in companies Troubled the track of the host that we hated;Grimly with swords that were sharp from the grindstoneFiercely we hack'd at the flyers before us.

VI.  Mighty the Mercian,  Hard was his hand-play,  Sparing not any of  Those that with Anlaf,  Warriors over the  Weltering waters  Borne in the bark's-bosom,  Drew to this island:  Doom'd to the death.

VII.Five young kings put asleep by the sword-stroke,Seven strong earls of the army of AnlafFell on the war-field, numberless numbers,Shipmen and Scotsmen.

VIII.  Then the Norse leader,  Dire was his need of it,  Few were his following,  Fled to his warship;Fleeted his vessel to sea with the king in it,Saving his life on the fallow flood.

IX.  Also the crafty one,  Constantinus,  Crept to his north again,  Hoar-headed hero!

X.  Slender warrant had  He to be proud of  The welcome of war-knives—  He that was reft of his  Folk and his friends that had  Fallen in conflict,  Leaving his son too  Lost in the carnage,  Mangled to morsels,  A youngster in war!

XI.  Slender reason had  He to be glad of  The clash of the war-glaive—  Traitor and trickster  And spurner of treaties—  He nor had Anlaf  With armies so broken  A reason for bragging  That they had the better  In perils of battle  On places of slaughter—  The struggle of standards,  The rush of the javelins,  The crash of the charges,^[3]  The wielding of weapons—  The play that they play'd with  The children of Edward.

XII.  Then with their nail'd prows  Parted the Norsemen, a  Blood-redden'd relic of  Javelins over  The jarring breaker, the deep-sea billow,  Shaping their way toward Dyefln^[4] again,  Shamed in their souls.

XIII.  Also the brethren,  King and Atheling,  Each in his glory,Went to his own in his own West-Saxonland,  Glad of the war.

XIV.Many a carcass they left to be carrion,Many a livid one, many a sallow-skin—Left for the white-tail'd eagle to tear it, andLeft for the horny-nibb'd raven to rend it, andGave to the garbaging war-hawk to gorge it, andThat gray beast, the wolf of the weald.

XV.  Never had huger  Slaughter of heroes  Slain by the sword-edge—  Such as old writers  Have writ of in histories—  Hapt in this isle, since  Up from the East hither  Saxon and Angle from  Over the broad billow  Broke into Britain with  Haughty war-workers who  Harried the Welshman, when  Earls that were lured by the  Hunger of glory gat  Hold of the land.

1. I have more or less availed myself of my son’s prose translation of this poem in the Contemporary Review (November 1876).
2. Shields of linden-wood.
3. Lit. ‘the gathering of men.’
4. Dublin.