Come nigh, come nigh, ye brave men all,
With the mead-drink in the cup,
And hear of the days of the Scylding’s praise,
Sung by a merry scop;
And hear of the heroes’ deeds of old,
Of Ecgtheow’s noble son,
And hear while the Danes and Geats are told,
And of Sigemund’s renown!

Come nigh, come nigh, ye warriors all,
Come back from the whale-path far,
As the breaker-of-rings the gifts he brings,
Where the minstrels singing are,
Where thy wives await in the banquet hall,
Where the lays are being said;
Return to your thane, ye strong Healfdane—
Come back with Grendel’s head!

And now on the mead-bench sit ye all,
Ye fearless atheling:
Of Heremod hear, with glad and cheer,
As the merry scop doth sing.
Set down thy falchion and thy shield,
As the rings the chieftains bring;
While ye sip the mead, the sagas heed
That the merry scop doth sing!