By the Mast and Somber Pyre By Mark Ruyley Lo and hear, dread day has come The throne lies bare and silent. This once mirthful hall of mead and cheer Is now without its tyrant. Scyld the Shield, first Danish King Born once to foreign lords With wealth of might and heart and coin To dwarf the dragon's hoard. He came to us by the whale-way Versed in the ways of war. Scyld the King of many men, The scourge of many more. To Beow, his son, the throne passes hence And the earls owe him much. The Warrior-Danes love now a prince Too young to know a woman's touch. But worry not, and lay the king down By the mast and somber pyre. Dressed in jewels, the gears of war. Seas, take our lord in fire.