Time and again, foul things attacked me,
Lurking and stalking, but I lashed out,
gave as good as I got with my sword.
My flesh was not for feasting on,
there would be no monsters gnawing and gloating
over their banquet at the bottom of the sea.
Instead, in the morning, mangled and sleeping
the sleep of the sword, they slopped and floated
like the ocean’s leavings. From now on
sailors would be safe, the deep-sea raids
were over for good. Light came from the east,
bright guarantee of God, and the waves
went quiet; I could see headlands
and buffeted cliffs.
–Beowulf, Heaney translation, 559-574
Light rain; drizzle.
One’s friends, acquaintances, and relations.
A lake, pond, or arm of the sea.
A semiliquid mixture, typically of fine particles of manure, cement, or coal, and water.