King Haki got in the battle so many wounds that he saw the days of his life would not be long. Then he had a ship brought up that he owned, and had it laden with dead men and weapons, had it floated out to the sea, had the rudder shipped and the sail hoisted, and had fire put to pitch wood and a firebale made on the ship. The wind blew from the land; King Haki was then dead or nearly dead when he was laid on the firebale. The burning ship then sailed out on the sea and that was much talked about for a long time after.
—The funeral of King Haki of Sweden, Heimskringla, "Ynglinga Saga"
Shield was still thriving when his time came
and he crossed over into the Lord's keeping.
His warrior band did what he bade them
when he laid down the law among the Danes:
they shouldered him out to the sea's flood,
the chief they revered who had long ruled them.
A ring-whorled prow rode in the harbour,
ice-clad, outbound, a craft for a prince.
They stretched their beloved lord in his boat,
laid out by the mast, amidships,
the great ring-giver. Far-fetched treasures
were piled upon him, and precious gear.
I never heard before of a ship so well furbished
with battle-tackle, bladed weapons
and coats of mail. The massed treasure
was loaded on top of him: it would travel far
on out into the ocean's sway. [...]
And they set a gold standard up
high above his head and let him drift
to wind and tide, bewailing him
and mourning their loss. No man can tell,
no wise man in hall or weathered veteran
