among the best seamen that the world has ever known. Had they not
loved to dare an unknown sea, English literature might not have
existed, and the sun might never have risen on any English flag.

The _scop_ sings thus of Beowulf's adventure on the North Sea:--

"Swoln were the surges, of storms 'twas the coldest,
Dark grew the night, and northern the wind,
Rattling and roaring, rough were the billows."[24]

In the _Seafarer_, the _scop_ also sings:--

"My mind now is set,
My heart's thought, on wide waters,
The home of the whale;
It wanders away
Beyond limits of land.
* * * * *
And stirs the mind's longing
To travel the way that is trackless."[25]

In the _Andreas_, the poet speaks of the ship in one of the most
charming of Saxon similes:--

"Foaming Ocean beats our steed: full of speed this boat is;
Fares along foam-throated, flieth on the wave,
Likest to a bird."[26]

Some of the most striking Saxon epithets are applied to the sea. We
may instance such a compound as _=ar-ge-bland_ (_=ar_, "oar";