Forþon nu min hyge hweorfeð ofer hreþerlocan,
min modsefa mid mereflode, 
ofer hwæles eþel hweorfeð wide,
eorþan sceatas – cymeð eft to me
gifre ond grædig; gielleð anfloga,
hweteð on hwælweg hreþer unwearnum 
ofer holma gelagu.
So now my mind moves above its heartfold,
my spirit with the seaflood,
wide over whale’s realm it moves,
to earth’s corners – returns to me anew
gluttonous and greedy; the loneflier cries,
irresistibly whets the heart to the whaleway
over the swells of the sea.
—  The Seafarer, 58a-64a