Must seal up his heart’s thoughts,
Drag the doors of his mind shut, 15
Bind sorrow with silence and be still.
A weary mind cannot fight fate—
A savage soul cannot find solace,
Help or healing. Who wants fame,
A home in the tribe’s long memory, 20
Must seal off sadness, bind up woe.
So often I’ve locked up my heart-sorrow
In a breast-hoard, a cage of bone,
Cut off from kinsmen after I covered
My gold-lord in the dark hold of ground. 25
I went winter-sad with the weight of years
Over the winding waves, seeking some lord
Who might heal my history, hold my heart,
Welcome me home with gifts or grace.
A man without country, without kin, 30
Knows how cruel it is to have sorrow
As a sole companion. No one waits
To welcome the wanderer except the road
Of exile itself. His reward is night-cold,
Not a lord’s rich gift of twisted gold 35
Or a warm hearth and a harvest of wealth.
He remembers hall-thanes, shared treasures,
His place at the table, his lord’s trust.
His dreams are done—they taste like dust.
A man knows who has lost his lord’s counsel 40
How sorrow and sleep can bind the mind.
A man may wander his own headland,
Discover his lord unburied, undead—
He kisses and clutches his dream lord,
Lays in his lord’s lap his head and hands, 45
As he once did in those generous days
When he knew the joys of hall and throne.
Then the wanderer wakes without friends,
Alone except for sea-birds bathing
In the dusky sea, spreading wide wings— 50
As snow falls, frost feathers the land,
And hard hail harrows the living.
Then the wounds of the heart are heavier,
Aching so long for his lost lord.
Sorrow is renewed with the memory of kinsmen 55
Wandering his mind, each guest a ghost
Who gathers and greets him with signs of joy,
Eagerly searching for old companions.
They all drift away—the unknown floaters
Bring no known sayings or songs to him. 60
Care is renewed for a man who must send
His brooding heart over the bond of waves.
So I can’t think why in this uneasy world,
My mind shouldn’t darken, sink into shadow,
When I think through the lives of men— 65
How warriors and retainers have suddenly slipped
From the hall-floor, brave ones gone.
So the days of middle-earth fail and fade.
No man’s wise till he’s walked through winters,
Suffered a world of unshared grief. 70
A wise man must be patient, not hot-hearted,
Not quick-tongued, not weak-willed at war,
Not reckless or unwitting, not eager to boast
Before he has thought things through.
A warrior must wait when he makes a vow 75
Until his mind is sure and his heart strong,
And he can read the road his traveling takes.
The wise warrior knows how ghostly it will be
When all this world’s wealth is a wasteland,
As middle-earth is now in many places— 80
Wall fragments stand, blasted by winds,
Covered by frost—ruined hallways in snow.
Wine-halls decay, lords lie dead,
Deprived of joys—the proud troop
Has fallen by the wall. War took some 85
On a long death-road; a bird bore one
Over the deep sea; the gray wolf shared
One with death; a sad-faced earl
Hid one in an earth-hole, a bleak barrow.
So the Maker of men laid waste to the world, 90
Until the old works of giants stood idle
And empty of the hall-joys of men.
The wise man who ponders this ruin of a life—
The hall that crumbles into a broken wall,
The hall-guest now only memory’s ghost— 95
Remembers slaughter and strife, crying out:
Where has the horse gone? Where is the rider?
Where is the giver of gifts?
Where is the seat of feasting? Where is the hall-joy?
Gone is the bright cup. Gone is the mailed warrior. 100
Gone is the glory of the prince. How the time has slipped
Down under the night-helmet as if it never was.
The only thing left is traces of the tribe,
A strange, high wall with serpentine shapes,
Worm-like strokes, what’s left of runes. 105
The strength of spears has borne off earls,
Weapons greedy for slaughter. Some glorious fate!
Raging storms crash against stone-cliffs;
Swirling snow blankets and binds the earth.
Winter howls as the pale night-shadow darkens, 110
Sending rough hail-storms from the north,
Bringing savagery and strife to the children of men.
Hardship and suffering descend on the land;
The shape of fate is twisted under heaven.
Life is on loan: Here goods are fleeting, 115
Here friends are fleeting, here man is fleeting,
Here kith and kin are fleeting. Everything passes—
All this earthly foundation stands empty and idle.
So a man wise in mind spoke to himself as he sat:
Good is the man who holds trust, keeps faith, 120
Never speaks too quickly about the storm
Of his pain or passion unless he knows
How to perform a cure on his own heart.
It is well for a man to seek mercy for himself
From his Father in heaven where security stands, 125
And where we can still find beyond perishing
A permanent place, an eternal home.
THE GIFTS OF MEN
This is another catalogue poem like The Fortunes of Men and the Maxims poems. Greenfield points out that the theme of gifts in this poem “emphasizes aristocratic talents analogous to those found in Old Norse Eddic poetry, rather than practical or spiritual ones, and the poem undoubtedly represents a fusion of Christian and Germanic concepts” (Greenfield and Calder, 263). Fulk and Cain note that “the greater part of the poem is a catalogue of human abilities and qualities, structured by the repetition of [OE] sum, ‘one’ … [and] the larger point is that God’s gifts are distributed widely rather than concentrated in a few individuals, and thus although one may lack wealth, strength, or some particular talent, there is always compensation of some sort” (174–75). The poet concludes that the Lord wide tosaweð … his duguþe, “widely distributes his talents (gifts).”
The Gifts of Men
There are many fresh gifts that grace the earth
That soul-bearers see and understand
In their hearts and minds, gifts granted
By the God of hosts, as the mighty Measurer
Deals out to mankind from his boundless source 5
Some craft or skill, some special capacity,
Some quality of character, some share of knowledge,
Some art or understanding. Each earth-dweller
Deserves some endowment, some boon or blessing.
No one in the world is so troubled or tormented, 10
So witless or weak, so sad-hearted or sluggish,
So unblessed or unfortunate, that the Gift-giver,
The Bestower of worth, strips him of mind-skill,
Denying him wisdom in thought and speech,
Stealing his strengt
h to do daily work, 15
Lest he despair of his words and deeds,
His own accomplishments, and the gift of grace.
No one is so abject in God’s eyes.
Conversely, no one is so powerful or clever
In this world, so wise or wonderful among men, 20
So widely adored, so full of fame,
That the people’s Protector, the Guardian of greatness,
Would give him the gift of all wise thoughts,
All worldly skills, all deepest understanding,
Lest he grow proud and pompous, full of favor, 25
Despising the poor, disdaining the wretched.
The God who holds judgment offers his gifts
Of strength and skill, mastery and might,
Wisdom and understanding, fairly and diversely
Among all earth-dwellers in an even-handed way. 30
To one he gives the gift of worldly goods,
Great treasures; to another, supple strength
Or a sure-handed craft. One is poor
With few possessions, yet sharp in mind-skills.
One is magnificent, beautiful in bearing. 35
One is a storyteller, gifted in song.
One weaves words, an eloquent speaker;
One pursues wild beasts, an eager hunter.
One is prized by powerful rulers;
One is a warrior, a battle-crafty man, 40
When spears fly and shields clash.
One offers wise counsel in a meeting of men
Where laws are written. One is an architect,
A maker of buildings with a trained hand
And a sharp mind, translating thought to stone. 45
He frames the hall to weather the storm
Of wind and war-blast, to resist failure or fall.
One greets the harp with his hands,
Plays with craft and cunning the singing wood.
One is a swift runner, one a sure shooter, 50
One skilled in song, one fleet of foot.
One steers a ship over the fallow waves,
Plotting the way for the high-prowed boat
Over ocean roads, while strong sailors
Power the wave-walker with their oars. 55
One has swim-skills as he plows through water.
Another uses his hands to hammer gold
And set gems for his powerful lord,
Protector of men. One is a skilled smith
Who with hard hands and a cunning mind 60
Can forge a storm of weapons out of steel
When he makes for the battle-strife of men
Helmet and hip-sword, a death-dagger
For close killing, mail-coat and bright blade,
Shield boss or rim, welded for war, 65
Wound tightly against the spear’s thrust.
One is pious, eager in alms-giving,
Virtuous and good. One serves ably
At the meadhall table. One is horse-smart,
Riding the road or at home in the stable. 70
One is patient, enduring what he must.
One knows the law, offering good counsel.
One is quick and cunning at dice;
Another is deep and clever at chess.
One is a wise wine-server or beer-keeper. 75
One is a builder who raises houses;
One is a war-lord who leads the host.
One is a counselor who knows the laws.
One is a thane who serves his lord bravely
In a time of need. One has patience, 80
A firm faith, and a steadfast spirit.
One is a fowler, skilled with the hawk.
One is bold on horseback, another agile
And full of tricks, a merry prankster
For the prince, a magician for the multitudes, 85
Light on his feet, lithe with his hands.
One is kind and gracious, a good comrade—
His mind and words are agreeable to men.
One carefully holds in his gentle heart
The soul’s needs, gathers God’s grace, 90
His Lord’s love, instead of the world’s wealth.
One is fierce in his struggle with the devil,
Ready to ride forth to combat crime
And battle sin. Another is skilled
At church offices and religious services— 95
He glorifies God, the Lord of life,
With his clear voice and songs of praise.
One is book-wise—he loves learning.
One cleverly connects hand and mind—
He writes deep secrets and dark sayings. 100
There is now no man on earth so mighty,
So strong or skilled, so ingenious or inventive,
That all God’s gifts would ever be his alone,
Lest he be plagued with pride, his once pure heart
Defiled with sin, shot through with arrogance— 105
Thinking himself the epitome of beauty,
The wizard of intelligence, the king of glory,
The keeper of fame, the only doer of great deeds.
The Lord distributes endowments and gifts
In different ways to diverse peoples 110
To break man’s boasting and puncture his pride.
One acquires virtues, another useful crafts;
One is beautiful, another battle-skilled.
One is mild-hearted, tender and compassionate,
Careful in conduct and moral-minded. 115
Another is true, loyal to his lord.
So the Creator distributes talents, spreads gifts,
Far and wide. His bounty is endless.
Let us then praise the Prince of glory
Who give us life, our heavenly Father, 120
Who reveals to men his merciful heart.
PRECEPTS: A FATHER’S
INSTRUCTION
Precepts is a poem of fatherly advice and instruction addressed to the speaker’s son. Hansen says that “the father’s aim is to construct a world of stable difference in which clear meaning and rational choice are possible” (48), and observes that “all of the father’s injunctions either recommend behavior that is classified as proper, fitting, or right, or they warn against actions that are seen as dangerous, foolish, or wrong” (48–49). The father advises his son to avoid sin in both worda ond dæda, “words and deeds,” and to find teachers in life who understand spella ond lara, “proverbs and precepts.” The dividing of the sessions of instruction into ten days, each with its slightly varied opening, provides a pattern of repetition and ritualized learning that reinforces the lessons. Bjork surmises that this poem “may partially answer our question about how Maxims I and Maxims II and other proverbial lore were used by the Anglo-Saxons [since] a wise man or father figure could have passed on to others proverbs and maxims that were biblical in import … or more generally gnomic” (2014, xvi).
Precepts: A Father’s Instruction
A wise father, full of insight,
Seasoned with experience, skillful with words,
Gave his noble son this good advice
So that the boy might prosper in this world:
“Do worthy deeds—they will bring you worth, 5
God stands by you to support the good,
And the fiend will only instigate evil.
Be keen and committed to the better choice.
Practice this bravely as long as you live.
Love your father and mother; hold your family 10
Dear in your heart, if they also love God.
Honor your elders with gentle words.
Think kindly of teachers, especially those
Who let virtue thrive in the life of the mind
And who always encourage you to do the good.” 15
Then he wisely said to his son a second time:
“Trust in this—commit no crime.
Commend no sin in kith or kin,
Lest
God accuse you as an accessory to evil.
He will deal out punishment or praise, 20
Banishment or bliss. Be sure and steadfast.”
Then the wise father spoke for a third time,
Instructing his child from his heart’s meditations:
“Never associate with anyone worse.
Seek out a teacher wiser than yourself. 25
Listen to advisers who hold good counsel.
Take a prudent mentor without respect to rank,
A tutor who understands proverbs and precepts.”
A fourth time the father instructed the child
So near to his heart to remember this: 30
“Never deceive or betray a dear friend,
Yet always do what you know is right.
Keep to this rule and foster trust.”
A fifth time the father began again
To teach his child his heart’s thoughts: 35
“Guard against drunkenness and fool’s talk,
Sins of the heart, lies of the mouth,
Anger and envy, dark thoughts,
The desire for women, illicit love.
When you fall for a woman you don’t know, 40
Strange lust will lead to shame and loathing,
Arrogance and enmity against God.
Always be wise in what you say.
Be a watchman against your own desires;
Guard against your own incautious words.” 45
A sixth time the beloved man began again
To instruct his child with kindness and care:
“Keep a clear distinction between good and evil;
The mind must be sharp to discern the difference.
Know first the good, then choose the good; 50
Know evil and avoid it. Keep your perception clear,
Your will resolute, your choices righteous.
Foster and cherish what is good in your heart.”
A seventh time the old, experienced father
Said to his young, inexperienced son: 55
“A wise man seldom feels untempered joy;
He worries over every happy moment.
A fool never frets about the future,
Never mixes delight with distress,
Unless he clearly experiences adversity, 60
And his mirth is chased away by misery.
A prudent man watches his words,
Ponders his thoughts in his heart’s hold,
Keeps calm and avoids unrestrained speech.”
An eighth time the old father began to speak, 65
To advise and admonish with gentle words:
“Learn such lore as is fit to be learned,
Showing your aptitude. Train yourself in wisdom.
Trust in the Lord and the memory of saints;
The Complete Old English Poems Page 57