The Complete Old English Poems

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The Complete Old English Poems Page 51

by Craig Williamson


  By the power of God, the Guardian of souls,

  Please shield my suffering, ease my agony. 390

  I see through your vision that the end is near.

  Sorrow surrounds me, pain presses my heart,

  Misery sits on my mind. The night is an anguish.

  Still I have never doubted you, my father and friend.

  You have always been my teacher and comforter. 395

  Always I heard in the evening hours

  As heaven’s candle, the radiant sun,

  Slid down into darkness in the western sky,

  Some other bright being speaking with you.

  Troubled, I heard the counsel of this creature, 400

  The wise words of this strange messenger,

  This unfamiliar friend who came to visit

  At the edge of day, the brink of night.

  I also heard by dawn-light the speech

  Of some ghostly guest in this holy house. 405

  I’m curious to know what or who

  In God’s glorious creation is coming to visit

  And where he comes from. Can you tell me?”

  Then after a long and painful pause,

  The blessed one spoke to his beloved servant, 410

  Revealing his courage with each arduous breath:

  “Listen, my friend, to this death-bed truth,

  Which I’ve never told to anyone on earth,

  Lest men and women should have marveled at it,

  Doubted or denounced it, mocked it in stories. 415

  I have lived my life in quiet solitude

  So as not to compromise my soul through boasting

  Or risk God’s wrath through holy pride.

  My glorious Lord, the Giver of life,

  Since the second year of my living alone 420

  Here in this hermitage, has sent me a visitor,

  A holy spirit, a heavenly angel,

  A mighty servant who has sought me out

  Each morning and evening, lifting my pain,

  Mending my mind. He reached through my breast 425

  To my heart’s hoard, leaving me the gift

  Of great wisdom, shaping a sacred vision,

  A way of seeing that cannot be told,

  A manner of searching into each man’s mind

  And sensing the hidden secrets of his heart. 430

  So I guarded this sacred gift in my soul,

  Never telling anyone until today

  About this angel’s glorious visits

  At dusk and dawn. Now you know

  This divine truth, dearest of men. 435

  Keep it in trust. For the faith and fellowship

  We have shared together in the fullness of years,

  I will never leave you alone in this world,

  Even after my death, troubled and heartsick,

  Wondering and weary, an exile from love. 440

  Have faith—I will be your friend always

  In the world that exists beyond time.

  Now my soul is setting out for its heavenly home

  From its house of flesh. Time is not listless—

  It hastens ahead into the arms of eternity. 445

  This earthly casket, a cradle of flesh,

  Grows weary on its frame. My body heads home,

  Grieving at the grave. My spirit rises,

  Eager to seek its heavenly home.

  Now I grow weary with my worldly struggles.” 450

  Then Guthlac sank back against the wall

  Where he was sitting and bowed his head.

  He kept courage and continued breathing

  Though his harried heart labored hard.

  From his mouth arose the sweetest scent 455

  Like the honeyed smell of summer plants

  Whose roots are in earth, but whose blooms

  Waft a delightful fragrance across the fields.

  So Guthlac’s breath drifted throughout the day

  Until evening. Then the noble radiance 460

  Of the sky began sliding down in the west,

  Seeking its rest on an evening couch.

  The northern sky gathered in a gray veil,

  Wrapping the world in a gloomy mist.

  Night pressed down on the bright beauty 465

  Of the land. Darkness reached out to doom,

  But the night was suddenly shocked with light

  As a holy radiance rose over cities

  And the homes of men. Then Guthlac

  Waited patiently for the soul’s promise, 470

  Holding courage in his heaving heart.

  His breath was broken, afflicted by illness

  And death’s bitter arrows. A divine light

  Hovered over holy Guthlac all night long,

  Erasing shadows, chasing away gloom, 475

  A bright candle from twilight till dawn,

  When the warm sun rose up from the east.

  Then the glorious hero also arose,

  Refreshed and radiant, looking at his servant,

  His dear and faithful disciple, saying: 480

  “The time has come to keep your promise—

  Carry my message to my beloved sister.

  Tell her my soul hastens to its Maker,

  Leaving behind this broken body.

  My heart is bound for its home in heaven.” 485

  Then the humble man took the sacrament,

  Refreshed his soul with the holy Eucharist,

  The noble food that sustains the spirit,

  Raised his hands in a rush of joy,

  Unclosed his eyes, those lovely jewels, 490

  Brightest of head-stones, gazed happily

  On the grace of heaven, and sent forth his spirit,

  Robed in the radiance of his holy works,

  Into the generous joy of the everlasting Lord.

  Then Guthlac’s soul was brought to bliss 495

  As angels bore him into heaven to know

  The lasting joy of living with the Lord.

  Below, his body grew cold and lifeless

  Beneath the night-sky. But the brightest beam

  Of heavenly light, a holy beacon, 500

  Swirled around his earthly house,

  Surging toward the sky like a tower of flame,

  Reaching right up to the roof of heaven.

  It dazzled the dark like a fistful of stars,

  Blazing in the sky like a score of suns. 505

  A host of angels sang heavenly hymns,

  Songs of victory, while saints mixed melodies

  And blissful harmonies in the halls of heaven.

  The scent of brightness filled the air.

  Light was blooming—a fragrant symphony 510

  Of sound and sight beyond the power

  Of any earthly poet to put into words.

  God’s mighty praise-songs were heard,

  Measure after measure, in their endless majesty

  And eternal meaning. Then the island trembled, 515

  The ground quaked, the servant shuddered.

  He feared for his life and forgot about courage.

  Bereft, he boarded a boat, urging forward

  That wooden wave-horse on the flowing road.

  The messenger and sea-steed moved as one 520

  Under the relentless sun, past shores and cities,

  Driven by waves of sea and sorrow

  Until the ship’s broad-bellied bottom

  Ground on gravel, scraped on the strand,

  Stood on the shore of that far haven. 525

  The servant disembarked with a heavy spirit,

  Heart-weary because his beloved master

  Had been left behind, deprived of life.

  His bittersweet memory brought hot tears

  That washed over his mournful mind in waves. 530

  He had a care that could find no comfort,

  For he was bound to bear the terrible news,

  The sad but true tidings t
o Guthlac’s sister,

  A saintly maiden, a joyous virgin.

  He made no secret of his deep suffering, 535

  Singing a death-chant for his beloved friend.

  From the heart’s well, he lifted these words:

  “Courage is best for one who endures

  The loss of his lord and afterwards broods

  With a melancholy mind on the shape of fate 540

  And the severing of those unbreakable bonds

  Of faith and friendship when the time comes,

  Woven by fate. The wounded wanderer,

  An exile from love, knows the taste of grief.

  He remembers his lord, his treasure-giver, 545

  Gone from the world, gathered up in the ground.

  He must go from the grave, wrapped in woe,

  On a joyless journey, lamenting the lost life.

  I have no reason to rejoice at his death.

  My beloved lord, a glorious leader 550

  And your dear brother, the noblest man

  Ever born in England between the shores

  Of the surrounding seas, the joy of kinsmen,

  Protector of the poor, shielder of the suffering,

  Sustainer of friends, has gone home to glory 555

  From this weary world through the judgment of God.

  Now his earthly portion, the frame of flesh,

  The broken bone-house, rests on a death-bed

  In his house in the hills, and his heavenly portion,

  The sacred soul, has been borne from his body, 560

  Lifted to the infinite light of the living Lord.

  My master Guthlac asked me to tell you

  That there would always be a shared home

  In heaven for brother and sister, a sacred trust,

  A twosome in truth, an eternal joy 565

  With a host of angels and holy saints,

  A glorious reward for your blessed works

  In this weary world. My victorious master

  Said as he hastened homeward into heaven

  That you should cover his corpse, dearest maiden, 570

  Bury his body with a blanket of earth.

  Now that you know my mournful mission,

  I must wander forth, in exile from joy,

  My heart burdened by the memory of my lord.

  * * *

  AZARIAS: THE SUFFERING AND SONGS OF THE THREE YOUTHS

  At least one folio is missing between the end of the previous poem and the beginning of this one. The fragment that exists here includes a description of the suffering and song of Azarias (Azariah) and that of the three youths, based on the Book of Daniel in the Vulgate Bible. Alternative titles suggested for this poem are Azarias, The Canticles of the Three Youths (Muir, 157), The Songs of Azarias and the Three Children (a possibility noted by Farrell, 37), and The Three Youths (Remley, 82). There are a substantial number of parallel lines in this poem and a portion of Daniel in the Junius Manuscript. The correlation between the two texts is high at first (in OE, lines 1–75 of Azarias and 279–366 of Daniel; in the translations, lines 1–80 and 286–370) and shows what Remley calls a “progressive divergence” (2002, 87) as the poems progress. Fulk and Cain explain that “there is no consensus about how to explain the connection between the two poems—which borrows from which, and whether this might not be a case of memorial rather than literate transmission,” but they note that “it is difficult to believe that Azarias 1–75 is not copied from some written recension of Daniel, since the correspondence is in many ways so precise” (116). Farrell points out in his edition that “The Songs of Azarias and the Three Children were important in liturgy on occasions of supplication and celebration from the earliest times” (39) and notes the significance of the expansion of the role of nature in the latter half of the poem. The poem opens with an implied dramatic situation: the lord of the Chaldeans has ordered Azariah and his friends to be burned for their stubborn faith, but an angel descends to protect them from the flames. The Old Testament story here takes on a pronounced Christian coloring at the end of the poem, when Christ is mentioned both as a shaper of the natural world and as a protector of the fire-bound faithful. The missing lines at 29 ff., due to the cutting away of the top of the manuscript folio, have been supplied from the corresponding lines in Daniel.

  Azarias: The Suffering and Songs of the Three Youths

  * * *

  Then holy Azariah spoke his mind,

  Praising God in prayer and song,

  Out of the heat of surrounding flames.

  Wise in works and firmly determined

  To perform good deeds, he spoke these words: 5

  “Lord of all creatures, Maker of all things,

  Your matchless strength can save mankind.

  Your name is glorious, bright and beautiful,

  Renowned in the nation. In every deed

  Your judgment is proved powerful and true, 10

  Your counsel propitious. Your will is our guide,

  Shaper of souls, to worldly prosperity.

  Protect and preserve us, Ruler of heaven.

  Save us from affliction and oppression,

  Suffering and torment. Almighty Father, 15

  We beg for mercy, bound by a ring of fire.

  We have earned this woe in our worldly lives;

  Our forefathers also were steeped in evil,

  Immoral city-dwellers stained with sin,

  Swollen with pride. They committed crimes, 20

  Breaking laws, abhorring the holy life.

  Now we wander through the wide world,

  Unprotected, ungraced, unfaithful, displaced—

  Sometimes irrelevant, sometimes despised,

  Sometimes enslaved in terrible torment, 25

  Treated as possessions by heathen kings.

  We are the hated exiles of earth.

  You have driven us into tyranny and bondage

  [Where we struggle and suffer. God of glory,

  We offer thanks for days of hard discipline, 30

  Our penance for pride. Do not forsake us Father,

  But manifest your mercy, Creator of souls—

  Keep those holy covenants, those sacred promises

  You established] with Abraham, Isaac, and Joseph.

  Shaper of spirits, you promised through prophecy 35

  In distant days that you would deliver them,

  Increase their progeny, bringing forth in birth

  Expanded families in great sovereignty,

  A people countless as the circling stars,

  Numerous as the grains of sand on the shore, 40

  Or the waves rolling endlessly in the ocean,

  The boundless salt-seas—a people proliferating

  Through the twists and turns of expectant time.

  We are the survivors who suffer, Lord—

  We pray that you keep your old promise 45

  To make manifest your power and glory,

  So that now the Chaldeans and other peoples

  Will know that you alone are the Lord Eternal,

  Victorious Shaper, God of glory,

  Sovereign and shield, sustainer of truth, 50

  Righteous Ruler of the world’s creatures.”

  So the holy man praised his Maker’s mercy,

  Speaking his mind. Then suddenly from the skies

  A dazzling angel descended, a beautiful being

  Robed in radiance. He carried comfort, 55

  A saving grace, a lifeline from God.

  Holy and heaven-bright, that powerful angel

  Forced back the flame so the bitter blaze

  In awe of the angel would not burn brightly

  But protect those men who obeyed God’s law. 60

  He swept back the fire, scattered the flame,

  So their bodies were unburned, their hearts untouched.

  When the angel arrived in the glorified air,

  The fire in the cruel furnace cooled down—<
br />
  It felt like a summer shower in the noon heat, 65

  A relief of wind and wet, a delight of raindrops.

  The flame was quenched by the Creator’s power,

  A gift of grace for three suffering, saintly men

  Who survived the fierce flames of the furnace

  And emerged, praising God with all their might. 70

  Then they commanded the children of men

  And all things that thrive under the roof of heaven

  In the whole of creation to bless the Lord.

  The three bold survivors, wise in mind,

  Said to their Creator with a single voice: 75

  “Gracious Father, let the full glory

  Of the world’s creatures and created wonders,

  The heavens and angels, the bright clear waters,

  The virtue and strength of all earthly things,

  Praise your power and worship you. 80

  Let the sun and moon radiate and reflect

  Your brilliant glory, O righteous King,

  Our living Lord, and lend to earth

  Both fruit and grain, your fertile gifts.

  You often send the morning rain 85

  To fields and forests to freshen and feed

  Root and stem, seed and sapling,

  So that each green thing gathers life,

  Leaps into being, grows leaf and bloom.

  Your rain succors and sustains all life, 90

  Finds and fashions a deep fertility,

  Warms earth, enriches roots, sings up shoots.

  God’s greatest glories are his gifts to men.

  The wise man sees his holy helper,

  His savior and sustainer, the God who gives us 95

  Every good thing, who promises us all,

  A plenty beyond fields, a harvest of hope,

  If we desire and deserve our Maker’s mercy,

  A generous judgment, when at his bold bidding,

  The severed soul shall leave the bone-house, 100

  Journey from the body on that long road home.

  Almighty Lord, may all spirits praise you,

  All earth’s energies, all natural forces

  From burning blaze to cooling breeze,

  From summer sun to winter storm, 105

  From dawn to dusk. Let all creation exult

  In the name of the Lord and his prolific power,

  From spring to fall, sun to shadow,

  Seed to shoot, song to silence.

  Let’s celebrate each new day’s delight 110

  In God’s dominion, each bright bidding,

  Each law of love. His power prevails.

  Even the cold wind adores Christ the King.

  Frost and snow, the bitter winter weather,

  Bright lightning, the flash of fire— 115

 

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