The Complete Old English Poems

by Craig Williamson

  So he did not resist the Savior’s command.

  He was willing to sacrifice his precious son.

  That night he spent in a sleepless bed, 2905

  Dreaming of the darling, innocent boy,

  Who would follow his father up the hill,

  But he rose and girded himself with a sword

  To sever the life of his beloved son,

  As the Lord commanded. Time threatened 2910

  To undo their love and prove his faith.

  A silent fear settled in Abraham’s heart.

  Worn with age, weary with obedience,

  The gray-haired guardian, giver of gold,

  Harnessed his donkeys, picked up his precious, 2915

  Living treasure, his innocent son—

  Ungrown, unguarded, unsuspecting, untainted—

  And two young servants to ease the load

  On the road of agony. They wound their way

  Through the wilderness and up the high hill, 2920

  As the almighty Father showed them the way,

  Until the sun’s dawning on the third day

  Over the wondrously bright, deep water.

  There Abraham saw the high killing-hill

  Where his son should die as God had commanded. 2925

  He stopped and spoke to his faithful servants:

  “You two young men must stay in this place

  While Isaac and I set out for the sacrifice.

  We will return again once we have offered

  A precious life to the King of spirits.” 2930

  Then father and son strode up the hill.

  The father bore both fire and sword;

  The son, the wood. Then young Isaac,

  Barely beyond boyhood, began to ask Abraham

  About the altar and his unknown offering: 2935

  “My lord and father, we have fire and wood,

  But where is the blessed and bright life

  We were meant to bring as a burnt offering

  To our merciful Maker, our gracious Lord?”

  Then Abraham resolved in his reluctant heart 2940

  To obediently honor his Creator’s command.

  Sadly he turned to his son and said:

  “The King of glory, the Guardian of life,

  Will provide a sacrifice as he sees fit.”

  With unfaltering purpose and unshakeable faith, 2945

  He stifled his sorrow, climbing the hill,

  Leading his heir as the Lord had commanded,

  His faithful Creator, true to his covenant,

  Till he stood at the top, ready to carry out 2950

  This harrowing sacrifice of his precious son.

  He sadly bound the boy’s hands and feet,

  Picked up the sticks for the funeral pyre,

  Placed them down neatly with dead branches,

  Setting his son securely on the wood, 2955

  An innocent boy on a nascent flame.

  Then Abraham looked Isaac in the eye,

  Lifted his blade, intending to kill

  The life he adored, seeking to slay

  His beautiful boy with his own dark hands 2960

  And dreadful arms, feeding the fire

  With the blood and sinew of his own dear son.

  In that moment of truth, between misery and mayhem,

  A messenger of God, an angel of glory,

  Appeared to Abraham, calling out to him 2965

  In a quickening voice like quiet thunder,

  Speaking to the faithful father, saying:

  “Beloved Abraham, slay not your son.

  Bear the beloved boy back in haste

  From the hungry flame before it grows ravenous 2970

  And devours him there. The God of glory

  Has spared Isaac. He will rise in the morning

  To greet his father, meet his mother,

  And go on with the wonder of living his life.

  God will reward your steadfast faith 2975

  In the face of such sorrow, such sacrifice,

  With great gifts, the winnings of victory,

  The promise of peace, an endless prosperity,

  A progeny of faith for the world to follow,

  Because God’s favor was dearer to you 2980

  Than the precious life of your innocent son.”

  The pyre was blazing with waves of flame,

  But the Lord of life had lifted up the heart

  Of holy Abraham, kinsman of Lot,

  When he gave up the sacrifice of his son 2985

  In favor of the joy of a living boy,

  The Hebrew heir, a promised inheritance.

  Then the blessed Abraham, Haran’s brother,

  Glanced over his shoulder in time to see

  A ram cruelly caught in vicious thorns, 2990

  Beyond thriving, and he bore the beast,

  An easier sacrifice than his own son,

  To the funeral pyre and placed him there,

  Drawing his sword to destroy the animal

  And offer his blood-sacrifice in the smoke 2995

  Rising to God, singing his praise

  For protecting them both, the blessed boy

  And the blade-wielding father willing

  To destroy his own destiny and his heart’s joy

  For the sake of his Lord who loved them both. 3000

  So father and son finished the sacrifice,

  Thanking the Lord for all of the gifts

  He had generously given them, early and late.

  EXODUS

  Exodus is a difficult and demanding poem. It ranges in style from baffling to brilliant. Earl notes the poem’s problematic structure, saying: “There seem to be numerous lacunae; questions of interpolation are frequent; the narrative is often jumbled; and the biblical parallel which supposedly underlies the whole conception of the poem is often tenuous and at times willfully distorted” (137). There are also numerous hapax legomena (words unrecorded elsewhere), textual problems, rapidly shifting metaphors, and complex allusions which make the poem difficult. Greenfield says that “this is in many ways the most difficult of the Caedmonian poems, and perhaps of all Old English poems” (Greenfield and Calder, 212).

  The poem combines elements of Christian typology and allegory with heroic and seafaring themes. It is based on portions of the biblical Exodus (mainly 12.19–30 and 13.17–14.31), though it also draws on Genesis and other books, as well as patristic exegesis and church liturgy (see Irving, 1953, 12 ff.; Lucas, 51 ff.; and Earl for more on the sources). The poem concentrates on the escape of Moses and the Israelites across the Red Sea with the help of God’s miracle of parting the waves, but it incorporates other narrative elements such as Noah’s flood and the near sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham, each a providential escape of a related sort. In allegorical terms, the exodus from Egypt and the founding of Israel foreshadow Christ’s act of redemption, which ushers in the messianic age. The movement through the waters of the Red Sea can be read as an image of baptism (see Remley, 1996, 168 ff.). The use of nautical imagery here partly derives from OE sea poetry, but it also refers to what Greenfield calls “the standard Christian interpretation of the sea voyage, a representation of man’s journey as an exile to his spiritual home in heaven” (Greenfield and Calder, 214). This theme can also be found in The Seafarer and the concluding lines of Christ II: The Ascension, for example. The separation of those saved from those destroyed at the end of the poem is described in language characteristic of the Last Judgment elsewhere in OE poetry such as Christ III: Judgment. Moses himself is a prefigural image of Christ, and the magical pillar of power here is sometimes referred to as a beam, as is the cross in other OE poems like The Dream of the Rood. Fulk and Cain call the poem “a loose paraphrase that takes the journey of the Israelites as a typos of Christians’ passage to the promised land through Christ’s sacrifice” (114). The poem also contains elements of heroic poetry, such as the description of the impending battle between
warring peoples, the use of the beasts of battle, and the sudden narrative switches in and out of the confrontation. The language of battle is so strong, in fact, that it sometimes seems that the Egyptians and Israelites actually engage one another, when in fact it is God who confronts and slays the Egyptian army by slashing them with a wave of water.

  The poem moves back and forth in biblical and historical time from past to present, and the narrative jumps have sometimes befuddled the critics, some of whom have rearranged portions of the poem. The purpose of this movement may be to offer the reader a lesson by means of examples or to communicate a sense of time that is beyond human ken. Irving argues that “the central theme of the poem is the march of the children of Israel under God’s guidance to the Promised Land,” which involves two complementary ideas: “first the need for (and difficulty of) obeying God; and second, the reward which comes to those who trust and obey him” (1953, 29). Lucas says that “the theme of ‘Exodus’ is Salvation by Faith and Obedience: in the exodus God saves his people—providing they are faithful and obedient” (31). J. R. R. Tolkien argues that the poem is “an account of the preservation of the chosen people and the fulfillment of the promises made to Abraham; and it is an allegory of the soul, or of the Church of militant souls, marching under the hand of God, pursued by the powers of darkness, until it attains to the promised land of Heaven” (1981, 33).

  There are two breaks in the poem. The first occurs after line 148 below (OE line 141 in the Lucas edition) and is the result of a lost leaf in the manuscript. The lost lines probably described “the relationship worked out between the Israelites and a former Pharaoh … by Joseph … to allow the Israelites to settle the land of Goshen [but] this agreement was broken by the Pharaoh of the exodus” (Lucas, 97). The second break occurs after line 463 below (OE line 446 in the Lucas edition) and is the result of an excised leaf in the manuscript. Lucas notes that “the subject matter of the lost portion, corresponding to Ex[odus] 14.23–6, presumably dealt with the completion of the crossing, the pursuit into the path through the sea by the Egyptians, and Moses’s action to bring about the return of the waters over the path through the sea” (131). In each case I have provided a brief set of transition lines to make the narrative structure somewhat clearer.

  Because of the complexity of this poem, its deliberate ambiguities and allusions, its concealed figurations and fulfillments, and its textual and narrative difficulties, I have sometimes expanded the lines briefly and conservatively to lend greater clarity to the occasional obscurities. I have tried to do this while respecting the essential (dis)order of the poem, which I believe was altogether intended. Just as the Israelites moved from apparent chaos and destruction at the edge of the sea to a finally perceived providential order after their passage, the reader here may also be invited to pass from initial perplexity to an understanding of order as he or she comes to a greater sense of the divinely inspired vision and history in the poem. It is this revelation of providential power and purpose that constitutes the heart of the poem.

  Exodus

  Listen! We have heard the stories and learned

  The laws of Moses. Everyone on middle-earth

  Knows his judgments, his promises to men,

  Passed on from one generation to the next,

  Offering to every exile a heart’s homeland, 5

  A reward in heaven after earthly perils,

  A rest for the righteous at journey’s end.

  This is the truth—hear it if you will.

  The Lord of hosts, the King of truth,

  Honored and exalted Moses in the wilderness, 10

  Strengthening his spirit to make miracles.

  The bold commander, loved by the Lord,

  Was crafty and courageous. He humbled the land

  Of Pharaoh and the proud forces of God’s foe

  With a righteous hand and a chastening rod, 15

  Afflicting his army. God gave him a gift—

  Victory and the survival of kith and kin,

  Life and land for the children of Israel,

  Hearth and home for the sons of Abraham.

  That was the first time God spoke to his servant, 20

  Unmasking mysteries, revealing to Moses

  In a moment of wonder how he made the world

  From the curve of earth to the expanse of sky,

  How he founded that glorious and faithful nation,

  And offered his hero his hidden name, 25

  Which not even the wisest patriarch had known.

  He strengthened the hand and heart of Moses

  Against Pharaoh’s people in their time of trials,

  When he visited the land and people with plagues

  And drenched the enemy army with death. 30

  A dark lament was heard in the halls.

  As the gold-keepers fell, two treasures were lost—

  The gift and the giver. The hall-joys were drained—

  The last, lonely song was a cry of suffering,

  Of peril and pain. In the middle of the night 35

  God cruelly struck down the Egyptian oppressors,

  The many first-born sons. Death stalked the land—

  Terror and torment piled up corpses—

  Killing was king of that ravaged realm.

  Awe and anguish were everywhere abroad. 40

  The mouths of the mockers were suddenly silenced;

  The hands of the heathens clutched at their hearts.

  The land grew dark with dead bodies.

  The evil enemies, the fierce fiend

  And his hell-hordes, were robbed of their lives. 45

  God’s hand destroyed their golden idols,

  Their heathen shrines. The devil’s delight

  Was turned into dust. The Egyptians suffered

  Terrible famines. That was a famous day

  When the people of Moses embarked on their exodus. 50

  The Egyptians endured their own captivity,

  Bound in hell because they intended—

  If God had allowed it—to keep the kinsmen

  Of Moses enslaved, barred from undertaking

  Their long-awaited journey to the promised land. 55

  The people were ready. Their brave leader,

  A bold commander, led them on.

  They wandered in exile a wilderness of roads,

  Unknown borderlands, and narrow escapes

  From hostile peoples, in a covering cloud. 60

  Moses led his people through many perils.

  Two nights after they had barely escaped

  From their Egyptian enemies, the opponents of God,

  Their lord and leader ordered an encampment

  Of people and provisions, a pilgrim-army, 65

  Near the city of Etham. The next day

  They turned north, driven by danger,

  Avoiding the searing southlands of Ethiopia,

  Where brown sun-dwellers lived scorched lives

  In the blazing heat of the burnt hills. 70

  God shielded his hosts from the heavenly fire

  With a canopy of clouds, a holy veil,

  Like a tabernacle tent in an arc of air.

  This sun-shield moved, protecting the multitude

  In a delicate embrace of earth and sky. 75

  The sheltering cloud shielded the people

  From the sweltering sun and enemy eyes.

  It sailed the high seas of the hallowed air

  As God had rigged it and fitted it out

  With invisible canvas and unseen ropes. 80

  It moved mastless, oarless, soundless,

  Concealing the Lord’s loyal hosts.

  The multitude was amazed—no one knew

  How to solve the riddle of the rudderless ship

  Sailing along, veiled in the vaulted air. 85

  Their next encampment was a welcome comfort

  To the holy company. The traveling host,

  Yearning at last for their eve
ning rest,

  Recognized in the glorious, radiant sails,

  A signal from God to set up their camp. 90

  As they lifted their eyes in the lofting air,

  They saw a bright miracle in the night-sky,

  A pillar of clouds and a pillar of fire,

  Ascending with the energy of the Holy Spirit,

  Leading the people of the almighty Lord 95

  Through the wilderness by day and night.

  Then I heard, as the ancient stories say,

  That the rested travelers lifted their trumpets

  Early in the morning in a bold-waking call,

  Proclaiming their promise, heralding glory. 100

  The army arose, a company of courage,

  Eager to march as Moses commanded them,

  Shouting their valor, these soldiers of God.

  They gazed at their guide, the pillar of clouds,

  That blessed beam, that veil of victory, 105

  That pointed the way to survival and salvation,

  As they followed the sail through the ocean of air

  With strength in their steps and hope in their hearts.

  Each evening a heavenly beam rose up,

  A flaming beacon, waxing radiantly 110

  In the wake of the sun. The pillar of fire

  Proclaimed God’s power in the night-sky,

  Its bright rays gleaming over the archers,

  A token of the Lord. The light glistened

  On the soldiers’ shields—shadows disappeared, 115

  Melting in the glare. Nothing was concealed.

  The candle of heaven, a night-guardian,

  Watched over the hosts in the wilderness,

  Protecting them from the gray heath-terror

  Sweeping down like a desert storm 120

  In a wave of horror. The pillar of fire

  Unfurled blazing curls, locks of light,

  Bright strands threatening the host

  With singe and scorch of skin and bone

  If the bold troops did not listen to Moses. 125

  The shield-warriors followed a blazing banner

  With the lion of Judah leading them on

  To the land’s end where waves lapped the sand,

  A sea-barrier before the brave army.

  The company pitched camp; weary ones recovered 130

  From their hard journey. Stewards served food

  To the hungry host, restoring their strength,

  Sustaining their spirits. When the trumpets blared,

  The soldiers and sailors spread out their tents