The Vessel forsook the land of the Danes,
Moved out to stir the deep water.
Then at the mast the sail was made fast by a rope
A fine sea-dress; the water-borne timbers creaked
The wind over the billows did not hinder the wave-floater from its journey
The sea-traveller advanced, floated foamy-necked over the waves
The clamped prow over the ocean currents, until they could descry the Geatish cliffs 
Driven by the breeze, the craft pressed forwards, grounded on land.
- Beowulf