Gave iron song-of-arms as they first approached
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arching on to the hall terrible in their battle-trappings. Their broad shields they laid, the weary seafarers, Hardest of bucklers at the wall of the building, And sat at the bench.—The armour rang, The war-gear of those men; the spears were stacked Standing all together, weapons of the voyagers, Ash-cut, grey-tipped; appointed for all fighting 330
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