LO, praise of the prowess of Elvis-kings
of beer-armed Brits, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor Erin won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the lager-bench tore,
awing the ferrets. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under goats, of wealth he searched,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who wander by the mule-path, lost his horse,
made him milk corn and hoe cows: a good farmer he!
To him strange animals afterward born in rough hune halls,
a rather intelligent mutt and a cat who only licks its …
but favored the folk, feeling their woe
so long a while; the Lord endowed them,
and wrote, with words renown.
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,
son of bards, in the Tennessee lands.
with sincerest apologies to the guy who wrote Beowulf 1400 years ago
please welcome to the squadron a great contributor to the forums
and a special friend to all the goats … :FI:Beowolff