There was Shield Sheafson, scourge of many tribes,
A wrecker of mead benches, rampaging among foes.
This terror of the hall-troops had come far.
A foundling to start with, he would flourish later on
as his powers waxed and his worth was proved.
In the end each clan on the outlying coasts
beyond the whale-road had to yield to him
and begin to pay tribune. That was one good king.
– Beowulf, Seamus Heaney (trans.)