A Geat woman too sang out in grief;
with hair bound up, she unburdened herself
of her worst fears, a wild litany
of nightmare and lament: her nation invaded,
enemies on the rampage, bodies in piles,
slavery and abasement. Heaven swallowed the smoke.

Beowulf, Seamus Heaney (trans.)

Lines 3150-3155: A despairing voice comes from an unnamed Geat woman standing near Beowulf’s pyre.