ānhaga
a solitary one
āre
grace
ġebīdeð
awaits
Metudes
God’s
miltse
mercy
þeah þe
although
mōdceariġ
sorrowful at heart
ġeond
over
lagulāde
sea-way
sceolde
had to
hrēran
stir
hondum
hands
mid
with
hrīmcealde
rime-cold
sǣ
sea
wadan
walk
wræclāstas
paths of exile
wyrd
fate
bið
is
ful
very
ārǣd
resolute
swā
thus
cwæð
spoke
eardstapa
the wanderer