Old English Poems Part 7

[Text: Grein-Wulcker, _Bibliothek der Angelsachischen Poesie_, iii, 148.

The poem is typical of a large group of Old English poems which give well-known sayings or proverbs. Other poems of this group are _The Gifts of Men_, _The Wonders of Creation_, _A Father's Instructions to His Son_, and the like.]

Full often through the grace of G.o.d it happens That man and wife to the world bring forth A babe by birth; they brightly adorn it, And tend it and teach it till the time comes on 5 With the pa.s.sing of years when the young child's limbs Have grown in strength and st.u.r.dy grace.

It is fondled and fed by father and mother And gladdened with gifts. G.o.d alone knows What fate shall be his in the fast-moving years.

10 To one it chances in his childhood days To be s.n.a.t.c.hed away by sudden death In woeful wise. The wolf shall devour him, The h.o.a.ry heath-dweller. Heart-sick with grief, His mother shall mourn him; but man cannot change it.

15 One of hunger shall starve; one the storm shall drown.

One the spear shall pierce; one shall perish in war.

One shall lead his life without light in his eyes, Shall feel his way fearing. Infirm in his step, One his wounds shall bewail, his woeful pains-- 20 Mournful in mind shall lament his fate.

One from the top of a tree in the woods Without feathers shall fall, but he flies none the less, Swoops in descent till he seems no longer The forest tree's fruit: at its foot on the ground 25 He sinks in silence, his soul departed-- On the roots now lies his lifeless body.

One shall fare afoot on far-away paths, Shall bear on his back his burdensome load, Tread the dewy track among tribes unfriendly 30 Amid foreign foemen. Few are alive To welcome the wanderer. The woeful face Of the hapless outcast is hateful to men.

One shall end life on the lofty gallows; Dead shall he hang till the house of his soul, 35 His b.l.o.o.d.y body is broken and mangled: His eyes shall be plucked by the plundering raven, The sallow-hued spoiler, while soulless he lies, And helpless to fight with his hands in defense Against the grim thief. Gone is his life.

40 With his skin plucked off and his soul departed, The body all bleached shall abide its fate; The death-mist shall drown him-- doomed to disgrace.

The body of one shall burn on the fire; The flame shall feed on the fated man, 45 And death shall descend full sudden upon him In the lurid glow. Loud weeps the mother As her boy in the brands is burned to ashes.

One the sword shall slay as he sits in the mead-hall Angry with ale; it shall end his life, 50 Wine-sated warrior: his words were too reckless!

One shall meet his death through the drinking of beer, Maddened with mead, when no measure he sets To the words of his mouth through wisdom of mind; He shall lose his life in loathsome wise, 55 Shall shamefully suffer, shut off from joy, And men shall know him by the name of self-slayer, Shall deplore with their mouths the mead-drinker's fall.

One his hards.h.i.+ps of youth through the help of G.o.d Overcomes and brings his burdens to naught, 60 And his age when it comes shall be crowned with joy; He shall prosper in pleasure, in plenty and wealth, With flouris.h.i.+ng family and flowing mead-- For such worthy rewards may one well wish to live!

Thus many the fortunes the mighty Lord 65 All over the earth to everyone grants, Dispenses powers as his pleasure shall lead him.

One is favored with fortune; one failure in life; One pleasure in youth; one prowess in war, The sternest of strife; one in striking and shooting 70 Earns his honors. And often in games One is crafty and cunning. A clerk shall one be, Weighted with wisdom. Wonderful skill Is one granted to gain in the goldsmith's art; Full often he decks and adorns in glory 75 A great king's n.o.ble, who gives him rewards, Grants him broad lands, which he gladly receives.

One shall give pleasure to people a.s.sembled On the benches at beer, shall bring to them mirth, Where drinkers are draining their draughts of joy.

80 One holding his harp in his hands, at the feet Of his lord shall sit and receive a reward; Fast shall his fingers fly o'er the strings; Daringly dancing and darting across, With his nails he shall pluck them. His need is great.

85 One shall make tame the towering falcon, The hawk on his hand, till the haughty bird Grows quiet and gentle; jesses he makes him, Feeds in fetters the feather-proud hawk, The daring air-treader with daintiest morsels, 90 Till the falcon performs the feeder's will: Hooded and belled, he obeys his master, Tamed and trained as his teacher desires.

Thus in wondrous wise the Warden of Glory Through every land has allotted to men 95 Cunning and craft; his decrees go forth To all men on earth of every race.

For the graces granted let us give him thanks-- For his manifold mercies to the men of earth.

3. ELEGIAC GROUP

THE WANDERER

[Text used: Kluge, _Angelsachsisches Lesebuch_. It is also given in Bright's _Anglo-Saxon Reader_.

Alliterative translations: Edward Fulton, _Publications of the Modern Language a.s.sociation of America_, vol. xii (1898); Pancoast and Spaeth, _Early English Poems_, p. 65.

Lines 77 ff. and 101 ff. have been compared to a pa.s.sage in Keats's _Hyperion_ (book ii, 34-38).]

Often the lonely one longs for honors, The grace of G.o.d, though, grieved in his soul, Over the waste of the waters far and wide he shall Row with his hands through the rime-cold sea, 5 Travel the exile tracks: full determined is fate!

So the wanderer spake, his woes remembering, His misfortunes in fighting and the fall of his kinsmen: "Often alone at early dawn I make my moan! Not a man now lives 10 To whom I can speak forth my heart and soul And tell of its trials. In truth I know well That there belongs to a lord an ill.u.s.trious trait, To fetter his feelings fast in his breast, To keep his own counsel though cares oppress him.

15 The weary in heart against Wyrd has no help Nor may the troubled in thought attempt to get aid.

Therefore the thane who is thinking of glory Binds in his breast his bitterest thoughts.

So I fasten with fetters, confine in my breast 20 My sorrows of soul, though sick oft at heart, In a foreign country far from my kinsmen.

I long ago laid my loyal patron In sorrow under the sod; since then I have gone Weary with winter-care over the wave's foamy track, 25 In sadness have sought a solace to find In the home and the hall of a host and ring-giver, Who, mindful of mercy in the mead-hall free, In kindness would comfort and care for me friendless, Would treat me with tenderness. The tried man knows 30 How stern is sorrow, how distressing a comrade For him who has few of friends and loved ones: He trails the track of the exile; no treasure he has, But heart-chilling frost-- no fame upon earth.

He recalls his comrades and the costly hall-gifts 35 Of his gracious gold-friend, which he gave him in youth To expend as he pleased: his pleasure has vanished!

He who lacks for long his lord's advice, His love and his wisdom, learns full well How sorrow and slumber soothe together 40 The way-worn wanderer to welcome peace.

He seems in his sleep to see his lord; He kisses and clasps him, and inclines on his knee His hands and his head as in happier days When he experienced the pleasure of his prince's favors.

45 From his sleep then awakens the sorrowful wanderer; He sees full before him the fallow waves, The sea-birds bathing and beating their wings, Frost and snow falling with freezing hail.

Then heavier grows the grief of his heart, 50 Sad after his dream; he sorrows anew.

His kinsmen's memory he calls to his mind, And eagerly greets it; in gladness he sees His valiant comrades. Then they vanish away.

In the soul of a sailor no songs burst forth, 55 No familiar refrains. Fresh is his care Who sends his soul o'er the sea full oft, Over the welling waves his wearied heart.

Hence I may not marvel, when I am mindful of life, That my sorrowing soul grows sick and dark, 60 When I look at the lives of lords and earls, How they are suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed from the seats of their power, In their princely pride. So pa.s.ses this world, And droops and dies each day and hour; And no man is sage who knows not his share 65 Of winter in the world. The wise man is patient, Not too hot in his heart, nor too hasty in words, Nor too weak in war, nor unwise in his rashness, Nor too forward nor fain, nor fearful of death, Nor too eager and arrogant till he equal his boasting.

70 The wise man will wait with his words of boasting Till, restraining his thoughts, he thoroughly knows Where his vain words of vaunting eventually will lead him.

The sage man perceives how sorrowful it is When all the wealth of the world lies wasted and scattered.

75 So now over the earth in every land Stormed on by winds the walls are standing Rimy with h.o.a.r-frost, and the roofs of the houses; The wine-halls are wasted; far away are the rulers, Deprived of their pleasure. All the proud ones have fallen, 80 The warriors by the wall: some war has borne off, In its b.l.o.o.d.y embrace; some birds have carried Over the high seas; to some the h.o.a.r wolf Has dealt their death; some with dreary faces By earls have been exiled in earth-caves to dwell: 85 So has wasted this world through the wisdom of G.o.d, Till the proud one's pleasure has perished utterly, And the old work of the giants stands worthless and joyless.

He who the waste of this wall-stead wisely considers, And looks down deep at the darkness of life, 90 Mournful in mind, remembers of old Much struggle and spoil and speaks these words: 'Where are the horses? Where are the heroes?

Where are the high treasure-givers?

Where are the proud pleasure-seekers? Where are the palace and its joys?

Alas the bright wine-cup! Alas the burnie-warriors!

95 Alas the prince's pride! How pa.s.ses the time Under the shadow of night as it never had been!

Over the trusty troop now towers full high A wall adorned with wondrous dragons.

The strength of the spear has destroyed the earls, 100 War-greedy weapons, Wyrd inexorable; And the storms strike down on the stony cliffs; The snows descend and seize all the earth In the dread of winter; then darkness comes And dusky night-shade. Down from the north 105 The hated hail-storms beat on heroes with fury.

All on earth is irksome to man; Oft changes the work of the fates, the world under the firmament.

Here treasure is fleeting; here true friends are fleeting; Here comrades are fleeting; here kinsmen are fleeting.

110 All idle and empty the earth has become.'

So says the sage one in mind, as he sits and secretly ponders.

Good is the man who is true to his trust; never should he betray anger, Divulge the rage of his heart till the remedy he knows That quickly will quiet his spirit. The quest of honor is a n.o.ble pursuit; 115 Glory be to G.o.d on high, who grants us our salvation!"

1. These opening lines are typical of the group of poems usually known as the "Elegies"--this and the next four poems in the book. It is probable that the poems of this group have no relation with one another save in general tone--a deep melancholy that, though present in the other old English poems is blackest in these.

15. _Wyrd:_ the "Fate" of the Germanic peoples. The Anglo-Saxon's life was overshadowed by the power of Wyrd, though Beowulf says that "a man may escape his Wyrd--if he be good enough."

87. Ancient fortifications and cities are often referred to in Anglo-Saxon poetry as "the old work of the giants."

THE SEAFARER

[Edition used: Kluge, _Angelsachsisches Lesebuch_.

Up to line 65 this is one of the finest specimens of Anglo-Saxon poetry.

It expresses as few poems in English have done the spirit of adventure, the _wanderl.u.s.t_ of springtime. The author was a remarkable painter of the sea and its conditions. From line 65 to the end the poem consists of a very tedious homily that must surely be a later addition.

The use of the first person throughout and the opposing sentiments expressed have caused several scholars to consider the first part of the poem a dialogue between a young man eager to go to sea and an old sailor.

The divisions of the speeches suggested have been as follows:

(By Honncher) (By Kluge) (By Rieger) 1-33a Sailor 1-33 Sailor 1-38a Sailor 33b-38 Youth 34-64 or 66 Youth 33b-38 Youth 39-43 Sailor 39-47 Sailor 44-52 Youth 48-52 Youth 53-57 Sailor 53-57 Sailor 58-64a Youth 58-71 Youth 71-end Sailor

Sweet, in his _Anglo-Saxon Reader_, objects to these theories since there are not only no headings or divisions in the ma.n.u.script to indicate such divisions, but there are no breaks or contrasts in the poem itself.