They fled in various directions, and, according to Egil's saga, "the plain was filled with their bodies." Anlaf and his immediate followers narrowly escaped to their ships and embarked for Ireland. Sharon-Turner says-- "Thus terminated this dangerous and important conflict. Its successful issue was of such consequence, that it raised Athelstan in the eyes of all Europe. The kings of the continent sought his friendship, and England began to assume a majestic port amid the other nations of the west. Amongst the Anglo-Saxons it excited such rejoicings that not only their poets aspired to commemorate it, but the songs were so popular, that one of them is inserted in the Saxon Chronicle as the best memorial of the event." The following is Dr. Giles's literal rendering of this remarkable poem into modern English:-- A. 937.--Here Athelstan, king, of earls the lord, of heroes the bracelet giver, and his brother eke, Edmund etheling, life-long glory in battle won with edges of swords near Brunanburh. The board-walls they clove, they hewed the war-lindens, Hamora lafan' offspring of Edward, such was their noble nature from their ancestors, that they in battle oft 'gainst every foe the land defended, hoards and homes. The foe they crushed, the Scottish people and the shipmen fated fell. The field 'dæniede' with warriors' blood, since the sun up at morning tide-- mighty planet-- glided o'er grounds, God's candle bright, the eternal Lord's-- till the noble creature sank to her settle. There lay many a warrior by javelins strewed; northern men over shield shot; so the Scots, eke, weary, war-sad. West Saxons onwards throughout the day, in bands, pursued the footsteps of the loathed nations. They hewed the fugitives behind, amain, with swords mill-sharp. Mercians refused not the hard hand-play to any heroes who, with Anlaf, over the ocean, in the ship's bosom, this land sought fated to the fight. Five lay on the battle-stead, youthful kings, by swords in slumber laid: so seven, eke, of Anlaf's earls; of the army countless, shipmen and Scots. There was made flee the North-men's chieftain, by need constrained, to the ship's prow with a little band. The bark drove afloat; the king departed, on the fallow flood his life preserved. So there, eke, the sage came by flight to his country north, Constantine, hoary warrior. He had no cause to exult in the communion of swords. Here was his kindred band of friends o'erthrown on the folk-stead, in battle slain; and his son he left on the slaughter-place mangled with wounds, young in the fight. He had no cause to boast, hero grizzly haired, of the bill-clashing,