The Complete Old English Poems

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The Complete Old English Poems Page 39

by Craig Williamson


  When her beloved kin carried his message

  Out of the west and across the wave-road.

  Helena commanded her servants to seek

  Skilled stone-masons to build on that holy hill

  The house of God, the greatest of churches, 1030

  As the Lord himself, the Guardian of souls,

  Had counseled her quietly from high heaven.

  Then she ordered the cross artfully adorned

  With gold and gems, the brightest stones,

  And placed in a silver casket with precious clasps. 1035

  In that treasure-house, the tree of life,

  The victory-beam, has rested ever since,

  Perfect, protected, inviolable, unassailable.

  It stands ready to support us in our suffering,

  To sustain us through every trial and tribulation, 1040

  To remind us of Christ’s redeeming role

  In offering us aid, the gift of grace.

  Then after some time, Judas the discoverer

  Was bathed in baptism, cleansed of sin,

  Converted to Christ. The Holy Spirit 1045

  Made a home in his heart as he fully repented.

  He chose a home in heaven over heresy in hell,

  The love of the Lord over the idolatry of demons.

  His God and Judge granted him mercy.

  Judas was baptized, who before was blind, 1050

  And gladly brought into the living light.

  His heart was lifted, his spirit inspired

  To a better life and the hope of heaven.

  Fate had ordained that he should find

  The fullness of faith and be loved by the Lord, 1055

  Cherished by Christ. This became clear

  When Queen Helena commanded Eusebius,

  Bishop of Rome, both learned and wise,

  To be brought to the holy city of Jerusalem

  For consultation and counsel, and to ordain Judas 1060

  To the priesthood to serve the people there.

  Eventually Eusebius confirmed him as bishop

  Through the grace and power of the Holy Spirit

  And gave him a new name, Cyriacus.

  So he was known as “the Savior’s law” 1065

  Throughout the city. For his many virtues

  He came to hold a place in the house of God.

  But Helena was still concerned about something—

  She wondered what happened to the cruel nails

  That pierced Christ’s hands and feet on the cross, 1070

  As the Son of God hung on the tree of glory.

  The queen of Christians began to inquire

  Of Cyriacus whether he might unravel this riddle

  Through the power of the spirit, saying to him:

  “Noble Cyriacus, protector of the people, 1075

  You rightly revealed to us the hiding place

  Of Christ’s cross, that glorious gallows-tree

  On which the Healer of souls, the Son of God,

  Was brutally hanged by heathen hands.

  My restless mind keeps reminding me of the nails. 1080

  I want you to find them wherever they’re buried,

  Discover them deep in the dark earth,

  Concealed in the soil from human eyes.

  My mind will not cease its endless mourning

  Until the almighty Father, Lord of hosts, 1085

  Savior of mankind, the Holy One on high,

  Consents to reveal those terrible nails.

  Now my best of heralds and dearest disciple,

  Lift up your holy prayer in all humility

  To the bright radiance, the King of heaven, 1090

  Beseeching the Glory of hosts to hear us

  And reveal that terrible treasure under earth,

  Those grim-gripping nails in an old grave,

  A secret too long concealed from Christians.”

  Then the holy bishop, his heart inspired, 1095

  His spirit strengthened, went forth eagerly

  With a great company praising God

  To seek the treasure that the queen requested.

  When he came to Calvary, he bowed his head

  And opened his heart—he held no secrets. 1100

  The holy seeker called humbly to God,

  The Guardian of angels, asking for aid

  In finding the nails in their unknown grave.

  Then God the Father and the comforting Spirit

  Revealed a sign in the form of fire 1105

  Rising up from the earth where the noblest of nails

  Lay buried below through a cunning act.

  The flame shot up, brighter than the sun,

  A great revelation from the holy Gift-giver.

  The people there saw a mighty miracle 1110

  When out of the darkness, like stars or gemstones,

  The nails near the bottom of the pit, their prison,

  Began to gleam with a heavenly radiance.

  The people rejoiced, praising God,

  Exulting in the bright act of revelation, 1115

  Even though in earlier days they had embraced

  Ignorance and evil, seduced by the devil’s deceit

  To turn away from the tree and the truth of Christ.

  With a single voice they cried out, saying:

  “At last we see for ourselves the victory-sign, 1120

  The wonder of God, though we once were blind

  To the truth and denied the faith with our lies.

  Now the divine light is revealed, the truth told,

  The miracle made known. For this great gift

  We sing in praise: Glory to God in heaven.” 1125

  Then the holy bishop whose once-hard heart

  Had turned to Christ, whose spirit was inspired

  By the Son of God, was gladdened again.

  Trembling with awe, he carried the nails

  To the noble queen. Cyriacus had certainly 1130

  Fulfilled her wish to unearth that wonder.

  Then all at once there was the sound of weeping

  As a flood of tears fell on her cheeks,

  Not from pain or grief but from pure passion

  And her love of Christ. Her joy flowed freely 1135

  From the orbs of her eyes, falling down

  On a bright web of filigree wire, a pendant

  Worn by the weeping queen. Beaming with joy,

  Radiant with faith, she knelt down over the nails,

  A gift from God and a solace for her sorrow. 1140

  She thanked the almighty Lord of victories

  For the truth revealed on that tree of glory,

  The promise proclaimed by the ancient prophets,

  The redemption radiating through the reach of creation,

  The comfort and consolation of the living Lord. 1145

  She was filled with the gift of God’s grace,

  The wonder of divine wisdom, the generous joy

  Of the Holy Spirit. The tree had transformed

  Her great heart. She knew that the Son of God,

  Who rode the rood and revealed the truth, 1150

  Would be her protector, her shield and salvation.

  Then Helena eagerly began to seek in her soul,

  Through an understanding of spiritual mysteries,

  A pathway to glory and the God of hosts.

  Our heavenly Father, the almighty King, 1155

  Supported and sustained her wish in this world.

  The promise of the prophets sung from the beginning

  Was now fulfilled. The faithful queen of the people

  Gathered her thoughts through the grace of the Spirit,

  Wondering in what way the nails might serve 1160

  Some holy purpose in this world through Christ’s will

  For the benefit of mankind. She summoned a man

  Known for his wisdom to come for a consultation

  And asked his ad
vice. He replied to the queen:

  “It is fitting for you in your faith to remember 1165

  The words of the Lord and keep his commandment

  Since the mighty Savior of mankind has given you

  Spiritual victory and the power of wisdom.

  Bear the noblest of nails to the worthiest king

  In this world to be used as a bit for his bridle. 1170

  When he rides forth in battle, the bit will be famous

  Over all the earth, and the king will conquer

  Every enemy he meets with his bold-hearted men,

  His sword-wielding warriors. Wherever armies clash

  In fierce combat, bitter foes on the battlefield, 1175

  He shall have victory in strife, safety for his soldiers,

  And the power of peace-keeping after the war,

  When he bears this symbol, the noble nailed-bridle,

  On his bright horse through the arc of arrows,

  The thrust of spears, the slash of swords, 1180

  In the storm of war. These victory-nails

  Will be known as invincible to all enemies—

  So the prophet Zechariah, wise of mind,

  Inspired in spirit, once spoke these words:

  ‘It will come to pass that the famous king’s horse 1185

  Will be known by the multitudes in the midst of battle

  By its bit and bridle-rings. That sign shall be called

  Holy to God, and the fortunate king

  Carried high on that horse shall know victory

  In battle and find great fame in this world.’” 1190

  Then Helena quickly commanded this to be done,

  The nailed bit and bridle to be made

  For the prince and ring-giver, her son the king,

  And sent this gift over the sea-road home to him.

  Then she commanded the best of the Jews 1195

  To come together in the city of Jerusalem

  For a conference at court. The queen began

  To mentor the wise men, counseling them all

  That they should love the Lord, refrain from sin,

  Keep the peace, cherish the bonds between them, 1200

  And obey the Christian counsels of Bishop Cyriacus,

  Who understood the scriptures and the Lord’s law.

  So the bishopric of Jerusalem was well established,

  And people came to Cyriacus from far and near

  To ease their suffering—the lame and limb-sick, 1205

  The feeble and fumbling, the weak and wounded,

  The blood-stained and blind, the leprous and mind-bent,

  The miserable and heart-heavy. The bishop’s care

  And his healing hands always fashioned a cure.

  When Helena was ready to leave, she rewarded him 1210

  With precious gifts before she sailed home

  And commanded the faithful who loved the Lord,

  Women and men, to honor in their hearts and minds

  That glorious day on which God’s holy rood

  Was richly revealed, the greatest of trees 1215

  Ever rooted in earth, growing up boldly

  Under its leaves. Spring was almost over—

  It was only six days till the onset of summer

  In the month of May, the warmth of the year.

  For all those who remember the festival day 1220

  On which we celebrate the glory of the cross

  And Christ the Lord who stretched out his arms

  Over all the world on that killing rood,

  May the doors of hell be closed and locked,

  And the gates of heaven unclasped forever, 1225

  So that the kingdom of angels is opened to us,

  And we are welcomed into the heart’s homeland

  And given our due along with Mary

  In a land where we will abide forever

  In eternal bliss with Christ the Lord. 1230

  Finit.

  Now that I have told this sacred story

  About the rood, I am old and ready

  To follow the final road. My flesh is frail,

  My body failing. I have woven these words 1235

  Out of study and thought, winnowing them long

  Into the night-watch. I too was blind

  To the full truth about Christ’s cross

  Till my mind was filled with the Lord’s light,

  Revealing the depths of divine understanding. 1240

  My words and works were stained with sin,

  And I was bound in misery, wound in woe,

  Before God granted this feeble old man,

  Whose mind was missing its careful clarity

  Of younger days, a sacred gift, a share of grace. 1245

  He opened my heart and soul to the truth,

  Easing my body and enlightening my mind,

  Unlocking the ancient art of poetry,

  Which I have practiced with great joy.

  In earlier days, I only remembered 1250

  God’s cross as through a glass darkly.

  I couldn’t see the sacred meanings buried

  Like divine secrets beneath the words.

  Until I was taught by the tree of glory

  And my vision cleared by the Holy Spirit, 1255

  The truth was hidden like unrevealed runes.

  Then man seemed like a sputtering flame (Cen),

  A guttering fire bound to die down,

  Blown by cares and sorrows even when blessed

  By heartfelt gifts in his glorious hall, 1260

  As his memory unraveled, his world unwound.

  Once he could hold his bow (Yr), as a bold warrior

  Has need (Nyd) to do while riding his horse (Eoh),

  Adorned with gold—but now he mourns in mind

  For the miles left behind by man and mount. 1265

  His joy (Wynn) is fleeting, his pleasure passing

  With the march of years. His youth is gone—

  His battle-armor gathers dust instead of glory.

  His manly strength (Ur) withers in the world,

  Shriveled by time—it dribbles away day by day 1270

  Like the slow, indiscernible drip of water (Lagu)

  Or the inexorable ebbing of tides in time.

  No worldly wealth (Feoh) ever remains for long.

  It moves from treasure to trash, from delight to dust,

  As time passes. It disappears like the wind— 1275

  Substantial in the storm, rushing and raging,

  Only to die down, suppressed and silent.

  So everything we hold dear in this earthly realm

  Will be destroyed. The Doomsday fire

  Will engulf those who cherished only good 1280

  In this worldly life, when God comes in judgment

  With his host of angels. Each man and woman

  Will hear from the Lord’s lips the final truth,

  An undeniable accounting of words and works.

  Each will pay a high price for shameless sins, 1285

  Discover doom for evil deeds and wicked thoughts.

  On Doomsday the Lord will divide the multitudes—

  Every man, woman, and child who has ever lived—

  Into three parts before they enter the judgment flames.

  The righteous truth-seekers, his faithful followers, 1290

  Those blessed by God and worthy of glory,

  Will be placed highest in the holy fire,

  Where they will endure the purifying flame

  With small suffering as it pleases the Lord.

  In the searing middle, the sinful but sorry, 1295

  Wicked but woeful, miserable and melancholy,

  Will be chastened with heat and smothering smoke.

  At the bottom of the fire in the ravaging flame

  Will be placed the evil plotters, the crafty deceivers,

  The cursed liars, the wicked destroyers, 1300

&
nbsp; An unrighteous rabble, an unholy host.

  They will dwell in the grip of bone-blazing fire,

  Soul-searing heat, headed for the devil’s clutch

  In the endless abyss. They will never enter

  The mind of God, the memory of the Lord, 1305

  But be cast finally from the fierce flames

  Into the fiery abyss of bitter hell.

  For the other two parts, it will be quite different—

  They shall see the God of victories,

  The Lord of hosts, and the exalted angels. 1310

  They will rise up in glory, separated from sin,

  Wholly purified of all evil and iniquity,

  As gold is refined in the fire, purged of impurity.

  They will know peace and eternal well-being,

  The Lord’s blessing, and the gift of grace. 1315

  The Guardian of angels shall be kind to those

  Who despised wickedness and avoided sin,

  Calling out to Christ, Son of the Creator,

  With their joyful words. They will shine like angels,

  Surrounded by the eternal radiance of the Redeemer, 1320

  And enjoy their inheritance with the King of glory,

  Their home in heaven forevermore.

  Amen.

  THE EXETER BOOK

  INTRODUCTION

  I am a sheaf of songs scribbled on the cow’s skin

  By once-wing darting from horn to hide,

  Old as a millennium in a holy house in Exeter.

  I hold in my arms Advent and Ascension,

  A monk on a hillside, a panther and whale,

  A Christlike bird, a soul and body,

  A plethora of riddles—prayer and plow,

  Bagpipe and Bible, moon and sun,

  Iceberg and bellows, a bawdy onion,

  Fish and river, sword and shield,

  Cock and hen, bow and bookworm.

  Sometimes a wife cries out in me—

  Her husband responds with a gift of runes.

  Sometimes I celebrate beautiful towns,

  Sometimes I cry at the edge of ruins.

  Once I was wounded by sharp knives,

  Stained by beer or a glob of glue,

  Used as a hot-plate and a filing cabinet

  For precious gold leaves. I last longer

  Than any author. Say who I am

  Who sings mouthless to the minds of men.

  The Exeter Book is a manuscript collection of poems in the Library of the Dean and Chapter of Exeter Cathedral in Exeter, England. Muir notes that “the combined codicological and literary evidence indicates that the anthology was designed and copied out circa 965–75, making it perhaps the oldest surviving book of vernacular poetry from Anglo-Saxon England” (1). The first known owner of the book was Bishop Leofric, who died in 1072. Before his death, Leofric drew up a list of items he intended to donate to the cathedral, including i mycel englisc boc be gehwilcum þingum on leoðwisan geworht, “a great English book about various matters crafted in poetry,” which most scholars take to be the Exeter Book. The manuscript contains 130 folios. The first seven folios constitute introductory materials added at a later date from another manuscript. The Exeter Book proper occupies folios 8–130. There are missing gatherings between Guthlac B and Azarias: The Suffering and Songs of the Three Youths, and between Riddles 67 and 68 (my numbering) and possibly at the end of the manuscript after the last riddle. There are also missing folios in a number of places.

 

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