Then presently through the Man’s-door came the Hall-Sun in that ancient garment, which fell straight and stiff down to her ancles as she stepped lightly and slowly along, her head crowned with a garland of eglantine.  In her right hand also she held a great torch of wax lighted, whose flame amidst the bright sunlight looked like a wavering leaf of vermilion.

The warriors saw her, and made a lane for her, and she made her way through it up to the Hill of Speech, and she went up to the top of it and stood there holding the lighted candle in her hand, so that all might see it.  Then suddenly was there as great a silence as there may be on a forenoon of summer; for even the thralls down in the meadow had noted what was toward, and ceased their talking and shouting, for as far off as they were, since they could see that the Hall-Sun stood on the Hill of Speech, for the wood was dark behind her; so they knew the Farewell Flame was lighted, and that the maiden would speak; and to all men her speech was a boding of good or of ill.

So she began in a sweet voice yet clear and far-reaching: 

“O Warriors of the Wolfings by the token of the flame That here in my right hand flickers, come aback to the House of the Name!  For there yet burneth the Hall-Sun beneath the Wolfing roof, And this flame is litten from it, nor as now shall it fare aloof Till again it seeth the mighty and the men to be gleaned from the fight.  So wend ye as weird willeth and let your hearts be light; For through your days of battle all the deeds of our days shall be fair.  To-morrow beginneth the haysel, as if every carle were here; And who knoweth ere your returning but the hook shall smite the corn?  But the kine shall go down to the meadow as their wont is every morn, And each eve shall come back to the byre; and the mares and foals afield Shall ever be heeded duly; and all things shall their increase yield.  And if it shall befal us that hither cometh a foe Here have we swains of the shepherds good players with the bow, And old men battle-crafty whose might is nowise spent, And women fell and fearless well wont to tread the bent Amid the sheep and the oxen; and their hands are hard with the spear And their arms are strong and stalwart the battle shield to bear; And store of weapons have we and the mighty walls of the stead; And the Roof shall abide you steadfast with the Hall-Sun overhead.  Lo here I quench this candle that is lit from the Hall-Sun’s flame Which unto the Wild-wood clearing with the kin of the Wolfings came And shall wend with their departure to the limits of the earth; Nor again shall the torch be lighted till in sorrow or in mirth, Overthrown or overthrowing, ye come aback once more, And bid me bear the candle before the Wolf of War.”

As she spake the word she turned the candle downward, and thrust it against the grass and quenched it indeed; but the whole throng of warriors turned about, for the bulls of the banner-wain lowered their heads in the yokes and began to draw, lowing mightily; and the wain creaked and moved on, and all the men-at-arms followed after, and down they went through the lanes of the corn, and a many women and children and old men went down into the mead with them.