Cassandra Rasmussen's last Old English translation for The Toast ("The Cat in the Hwæt") can be found here.

Goodnight, Rune. Goodnight, Stone. Goodnight to the sleeping king, laid alone. Goodnight goblets, and golden plates, Wondrous workmanship, wrecked by the Fates. Farewell to the Feasting Hall, felled by time, Goodnight to the ancient Gates, engraved with grime. Where has gone the great hall, where the golden seats? Goodnight to the grain bowl, the goodly meats.

Hark! We have heard tales sung of the great storm, And the raindrops that fell like cold, wet spears, how they smothered the unshining sun! There was Sally, sitter of stools, Batter of baseballs, brave in the outfield. The Warrior of Little League had fallen far! Slumped stool-sitter, and hater of sitting in stools, Wisher at the window, watching the whale-road deepen with water. A boy-child and her brother, I had before been bird-chaser, Bare-footed…