iddle 89 Frea min [ . . . . .]    [ . . . . . . . ]   I was point and high pleasure for my lord   [ . . . . . . ]de    willum sinum,   *        *        *   [ . . . . . . . ]    [ . . . . . . . ]   Sometimes startled he broke for the wood,   heah ond hyht     [ . . . . . . . ]   Sometimes leapt with the years' lean grace   [ . . . . . ]earpne,    hwilum [ . . . . . ] 5 Over plunging streams, sometimes mounted   [ . . . . . . . ]    [ . . . . ..]wilum sohte   Steep cliff-trails home or sought hoof-proud 5 frea [ . . . . . ]    [ . . . . .]s wod,   In hollows the horned shield of the troop--   dægrime frod,     deo[.........]s ,   Sometimes pawed at ice-grass locked like stone,   hwilum stealc hliþo    tigan sceolde   Sometimes the gray frost shook from his hair.   up in eþel,    hwilum eft gewat 10 I rode my fierce lord's butting brain-chair   in deop dalu     duguþe secan   Till my younger brother stole helm and headland. 10 strong on stæpe,     stanwongas grof   Cast homeless to the brown blade, seized   hrimighearde,     hwilum hara scoc   By burnished steel, gutted without gore   forst of feaxe.     Ic on fusum rad   I felt no blood-rush, wept no death-song,   oþþæt him þone gleawstol    gingra broþor 15 Dreamed no dark vengeance. I endured   min agnade    ond mec of earde adraf.   The sharp torments of shield-biters. 15 Siþþan mec isern     innanweardne   Now I swallow black wood and water,   brun bennade;     blod ut ne com,   Bear in my belly dark stain from above.   heolfor of hreþre,     þeah mec heard bite   One-foot, I guard black treasure seized   stiðecg style.     No ic þa stunde bemearn, 20 By a plundering foe that once bore   ne for wunde weop,     ne wrecan meahte   The battle-companion of the wolf far: 20 on wigan feore     wonnsceaft mine,   The scavenger darts from my belly blackened   ac ic aglæca    ealle þolige,   And steps toward the table, the stout board   þæt [ . . ]e bord biton.     Nu ic blace swelge   *        *        *   wuda ond wætre,     w[ . .]b[ .] befæðme 25 Sometimes a share of death when the day-candle   þæt mec on fealleð     ufan þær ic stonde,   Slides down and no man's eyes see my work   eorpes nathwæt;    hæbbe anne fot.       Nu min hord warað    hiþende feond,       se þe ær wide bær     wulfes gehleþan;       oft me of wombe    bewaden fereð, 30     steppeð on stið bord    [ . . . . . . . ]       [ . . . ] deaþes d[ . . . ]     þonne dægcondel,       sunne [ . . . . . ]    [ . . . . . . . ].       [ . . . . . .]eorc     eagum wliteð       ond spe[ . . . . . ]    [ . . . . . . . ] 35     solution