away from that place, the warrior who knows
what are my ways. Say what my name is.
This is about all that remains of some twenty-nine lines. Supposedly a Lance or Spear, first as it grew in the ground, then as made into a weapon. “With skill by his will” is an attempt to represent cræft on hæfte; hæft means both the ‘haft’ of the spear and also ‘constraint,’ i.e., the spear is forced to fight.
- s49 ##
49 (K-D 5)
I am a lonely thing, wounded with iron,
switten by sword, sated with battle-work,
weary of blades. Often I see battle,
fierce combat. I foresee no comfort,
no help will come for me from the heat of battle,
until among men I perish utterly;
but the hammered swords will beat me and bite me,
hard-edged and sharp, the handiwork of smiths,
in towns among men. Abide I must always
the meeting of foes. Never could I find
among the leeches, where people foregather,
any who with herbs would heal my wounds;
but the sores from the swords are always greater
with mortal blows day and night.
Beneath this the manuscript has the rune for S (scyld or scutum) which gives the answer: Shield.
- s50 ##
50 (K-D 35)
Me the wet ground, exceeding cold,
first brought forth from within itself.
Neither am I wrought of woolen fleece
nor of hairs, with skill; I know it in my mind.
I have no winding wefts nor any warp in me;
nor with strong rods does the thread resound for me,
nor the whirring shuttle move across me,
