The Complete Old English Poems

by Craig Williamson

  Vast walled vineyards and untold wealth. 125

  Likewise the Lord rewarded Noah

  With power and prosperity after the flood.

  These were noble leaders, respected lords,

  Who used their wealth wisely, their power

  Judiciously, and God listened to their prayers. 130

  Abundance cannot harm an enlightened man

  As long as he doesn’t fall in love with his goods,

  Treating his treasure as the heart’s hoard,

  Counseled in greed by the crafty fiend.

  A man must own some wealth in this world, 135

  Property and possessions, hearth and home.

  With these goods he can help the poor,

  Heal the sick, and clothe the naked.

  Goods and good deeds can help the giver

  Bring his soul to salvation, his heart to heaven. 140

  Each man must work at some skill or craft

  Given to him by Christ, a loan in time,

  In order to prosper and work the Lord’s will.

  A man should not worry that God will demand

  More from him than he thought him able to achieve. 145

  Long ago the Lord, the Prince of heaven,

  Spoke to the wise prophet Jeremiah,

  Saying these words: “Go now throughout

  All the kingdoms of earth, seeking a man

  Who is constant and true, steadfast and strong, 150

  Who desires the good and brings it into being

  With his wit and wisdom, his words and works—

  Who understands the faith, who instructs and inspires

  Others around him in the ways of truth.

  If you find such a man, I will show him mercy.” 155

  You should not be too careless or uncaring,

  Too restless or reluctant, lazy or sluggish,

  If you want to please the Prince of heaven

  In his holy struggle against his enemies.

  If a man repents in his innermost heart 160

  For all of his sins and firmly resolves

  That he will not turn back and accept temptation,

  Then even though he does not continue to fast

  For even three days with a committed spirit,

  The Lord will accept him in a fatherly embrace 165

  When he comes home after his final journey.

  As a man gives up sin more and more in this life

  For the Lord’s sake, he will be rewarded

  With even more gifts from almighty God.

  What seems to man his greatest affliction, 170

  His sorrow and suffering in the ways of the world,

  Will prove in the end the dearest of treasures

  Because it will bring him closer to God—

  But nothing can be amended at the end of life

  If a man does not willingly embrace the truth 175

  While he endures hardship on this earth.

  Anything attained by means of easy labor

  Will bring a reward barely worth having.

  Hard work often heals the heart,

  Strong labor strengthens the soul. 180

  Earlier evils cannot harm a man

  If he finds them deeply displeasing,

  If they chafe and gall his good soul,

  And if he always gives alms to the poor,

  The wretched of this world who cry out in pain. 185

  The hand in need on earth is a helping hand

  At the door of heaven. An empty hoard

  May hold a full heart—it is God’s treasure.

  A man is a Christian who eagerly offers

  Kindness and comfort to all other men. 190

  A merciful man finds mercy in heaven.

  The Lord of hosts, our almighty Father,

  Spoke these words to the prophet Isaiah:

  “I tell you truly that the unrighteous man

  Must rightly perish—but if he repents 195

  And rejects sin with all the power

  Of his heart and soul, then he may survive

  The day of judgment and escape death.”

  A man need not walk to the ends of the earth,

  Seeking to discover the kingdom of God. 200

  He can live at home where he’s always lived

  Because the kingdom of heaven is everywhere

  That the spirit of the Lord settles securely

  Into the hearts and minds of the children of men.

  A faithful man already owns what God wants. 205

  Would you wander away from hearth and home,

  Seeking for heaven? Stay where you are

  And have faith in God. He is your comfort

  And your Creator, your shield and sustainer.

  The Lord of hosts does not want you wandering 210

  Away from your heart’s home, your place of faith.

  The road to God runs not from door to distance,

  But from contemplation to compassion,

  Morality to mercy. This path to perfection

  Is not outside your door but inside your soul. 215

  This is true advice and ancient wisdom.

  The foul slough of sin is no source of dread

  For any man determined to escape that swamp

  And travel the hard road of virtue—

  Though it’s difficult to guard against dangers 220

  Without and within. Strive against evil, Struggle with yourself. No man on earth Can escape the Lord’s law, death’s doom. You can’t fully know the way of your soul,

  How it came to your body, shaped and sustained 225

  By the living Lord, or where it came from,

  How it descended to its earthly home,

  When it will depart or where it will go.

  You can’t fully know the craft of creation,

  The plan and promise of the heavenly Lord, 230

  Who is Architect of everything, Weaver of the world,

  Of the endless tapestry of heaven and earth.

  He holds the curve of creation in his hand

  From land to sea, earth to air, beginning to end,

  And all the world’s wonderful creatures 235

  Who move through time and transient tenure

  In this God-given, Christ-quickening world.

  Wisdom is the light that should live in men.

  It is kindled with humility and comes from God.

  It cannot be carried too proudly to another, 240

  For arrogance extinguishes the inner light.

  I’ve never heard it said that a good person

  In old age ever came from anything except

  A good youth in service to God and mankind.

  Anyone who wants comfort in his old age 245

  Needs to comfort others while he is young.

  Do not speak foolishly about your fellow man.

  Do not offer enmity to anyone around you,

  Even if you arbitrarily name him an enemy.

  Respect people not for power or possessions 250

  But for both their holiness and humanity.

  Respect yourself. Guard your thoughts against pride,

  Your heart against evil, your soul against sin.

  Cleanse yourself so that you can serve Christ,

  The King of creation, the Lord of life. 255

  Serve the Lord for it pleases him.

  Through goodness and grace, you may find peace,

  The soul’s security, a portion of heaven,

  Where the highest fulfillment of hope exists,

  The purest desire, a perfect bliss, 260

  The comfort of kin with a holy host,

  The sweetest life, the richest reward,

  The greatest gift given by Christ.

  Understand this truth of the apostle Paul:

  There are three victory-paths leading to heaven. 265

  The first is faith, the second is love,

  And the third is hope am
ong those who aspire

  With a true passion to a home in heaven.

  May the Son of God, our Savior, aid us

  And bear us back to our place in creation, 270

  The heart’s homeland where we belong.

  Amen.

  O Lord, order our lives and dispose of our days in your peace and love, and let us be saved from eternal damnation. Let us be counted as kin

  among the flock of the saved. Let it be so. 275

  Truly God almighty would never allow his chosen ones to pass into evil purposes but would fill their hearts with grief, their minds with sorrow, if they should desire to do evil, so that by this suffering of spirit and understanding of evil, they would recover their righteousness and return to the Lord. 280

  LAMENT FOR THE ENGLISH CHURCH (FROM THE WORCESTER FRAGMENTS)

  This poem occurs in MS Worcester, Cathedral Library, F. 174, fol. 63r, and is edited most recently by Jones (264–65, 371–72, 425–27), drawing on the previous work of Hall (1920), Dickins and Wilson, and Brehe. The poem is sometimes called The First Worcester Fragment or St. Bede’s Lament and is sometimes combined with The Soul’s Address to the Body (see below) as in Johansen (1985). Jones notes that the poem is by “an anonymous poet, active at Worcester perhaps a century after the Norman Conquest” (ix). Like all the transition poems, it shows evidence of Old English forms morphing into Middle English (and is often included in Middle English anthologies). I have followed Jones’s text and drawn upon his literal prose translation. My poetic translation of the Latin passage at the end of the poem, which draws on Deuteronomy 32:11, appears in italics in slightly expanded form.

  Lament for the English Church (From the Worcester Fragments)

  Saint Bede was born among us in Britain,

  And he wisely translated wonderful books

  Used for instruction by the English people.

  He untangled the knots called Quaestiones,

  Those precious secrets, those sacred mysteries. 5

  Abbot Ælfric, whom we call Alcuin,

  Was a scholar who translated the five books—

  Genesis, Exodus, Deuteronomy, Numbers, Leviticus—

  To teach us the scriptural truth in English.

  These were the bishops who preached Christianity: 10

  Wilfrid of Ripon, John of Beverly,

  Cuthbert of Durham, Oswald of Worcester,

  Ecgwin of Evesham, Aldhelm of Malmesbury,

  Swithun, Æthelwold, and also Aidan,

  Birinus of Winchester, Paulinus of Rochester, 15

  Dunstan, and also Ælfheah of Canterbury.

  These wise men instructed all of our people

  In English. Their spiritual light was not dim—

  It was glowing brightly, gathering into greatness.

  The people have passed on and the wisdom is lost. 20

  Now other teachers come to instruct us,

  But many of them perish, both teachers and pupils.

  Now our Lord says this: He will certainly find us

  As the eagle lifts up her beloved fledglings

  And hovers over them with her guardian wings. 25

  These are God’s words sent into our world,

  And we should shield them always

  With our earthly feathers and sheltering wings.

  LANCASHIRE GOLD RING

  Robinson and Stanley classify the Lancashire Ring inscription as metrical (28). Page notes that the Lancashire ring “is a plain gold hoop, its legend, part runic part roman, set within beaded borders round the outer circumference [and] the craftsman cut away part of the surface and blackened it with niello, leaving the letters standing bright and clear in relief” (162). See also Okasha (no. 66, p. 89).

  Lancashire Gold Ring

  Ædred owns me; Eanred inscribed me.

  METRICAL PSALMS 90:15–95:2

  This set of verses is found in “Eadwine’s Psalter,” MS R.17.1 in Trinity College, Cambridge, and constitutes a variant text on the metrical psalms in the Paris Psalter. Baker points out that both the Paris Psalter texts and the Eadwine’s Psalter texts apparently derive from a common ancestor, but that “the late West Saxon of P[aris Psalter] is surely closer to [its dialect] than the idiosyncratic twelfth-century Kentish of E[adwine’s] P[salter]” (1984, 266). As a result of comparing the two texts, he suggests only three emendations to Krapp’s ASPR text (1932b) of The Metrical Psalms of the Paris Psalter, which I have taken into account in my translations of those poems elsewhere in this collection.

  THE SOUL’S ADDRESS TO THE BODY (FROM THE WORCESTER FRAGMENTS)

  The following fragments from the Worcester Cathedral Library MS F. 174, fols. 63v–66v, are taken from Jones’s edition, which draws upon previous work by Buchholz, Moffat (1987), Ricciardi, and Johansen (1994). Jones notes that the text “is considered a poem by some, a rhythmical-prose homily by others … [and] perhaps belongs more to early Middle than to Old English” (xxxi). The poem nonetheless shows some evidence of the same loose OE metrical style and vocabulary found elsewhere in late OE verse and shares many elements with the Soul and Body poems in the Exeter Book and the Vercelli Book and with another late OE poem, The Grave (above). Jones points out that “of particular interest in the Worcester Soul’s Address is the poet’s attention to the common rituals of death in medieval society, such as the preparation of the corpse … [and] the poet candidly portrays the reactions—bereft, greedy, relieved, or indifferent—of those who survive the departed” (xxxi). I follow Jones’s text and draw occasionally upon his literal prose translation in making the poetic translation here. Translations of the Latin phrases and lines in the poem are given in italics.

  The Soul’s Address to the Body (From the Worcester Fragments)

  Fragment A

  * * *

  The Lord created man and middle-earth

  And all the creatures that live in that land.

  He shaped man’s soul and gave him life,

  Mixing together from spirit and dust

  What makes us whole, body and soul— 5

  But these must soon be sorely separated.

  So a child prophesies in its painful cries,

  That long journey from groan to grave,

  From womb to tomb, birth to death,

  Wailing in woe that the soul must depart 10

  One day from the body, an aching split.

  Every child is born weeping

  And dies wailing. Its life is brief.

  Death stings the body that twists and turns,

  Arching away, bound to the pain, 15

  Often complaining, protesting its end.

  The body tosses on its bed of sorrow,

  Saying, “These days of suffering are endless,

  These nights of pain endure forever.”

  It wails in misery, groans in grief, 20

  Its ears grow deaf, its eyes dim,

  Its nose splits, its lips shrivel,

  Its bones shrink, its tongue clutches,

  Its mind fails, its strength fades

  Its limbs chill, its life pales. 25

  Then the soul-house will lose life,

  A body bereaved, a quickness crushed.

  All joy will flee from that flesh-home.

  The child’s prophecy will be fulfilled

  From babe’s breath to sudden death, 30

  From mother’s wail to withered womb,

  From early affliction to endless woe.

  When the body and soul find their severing,

  Their miserable life will meet its end

  As unjoy gives way to judgment’s journey. 35

  The doomed life will be laid out

  On the cold floor, facing east,

  Stiff as a stick, cold as clay,

  Its nature fixed as the first dust.

  The body is measured, the grave matched— 40

  It is what the soul-house deserves after death.

  This cold clay, this dust undone,

  This
mud unmade, lies alone on the floor.

  Everyone flees—a body has no friends.

  Its previous favors are now as nothing. 45

  No one wants to ease its limbs,

  Adjust the angle of its bent head

  With his living hands. No one wants

  To defile his life with the touch of death.

  Then the dead man’s distressed wife 50

  Comes in, cursing his unhappy fate,

  Binds his mute mouth and blind eyes

  For brute burial, her life’s love

  Twisted into misery, sewn into sorrow.

  Her care is cold, her wanting worthless. 55

  In the grave’s gloom, the soul sees the body.

  * * *

  Fragment B

  * * *

  “You made me miserable while I lived in you,

  Embracing evil with a cunning guile,

  Always rejecting what was generous and right.

  Where is your pride now, your precious vanity?

  Where is your treasure of pounds and pennies? 5

  Where is everything you coveted and counted,

  Everything you measured, everything you marked?

  Where are the gold-plated vessels you gathered?

  Your hoard has slipped from your greedy grasp.

  Your joy has fled and left me in sorrow. 10

  Your rapture has run off and left me wretched.

  Where are the garments you proudly wore?

  Where are the kinsmen who courted your favors,

  Who sat grieving over your illness and age,

  Who prayed so earnestly for your uncertain healing? 15

  They secretly seethed that you lived too long,

  Greedy by the grave for all of your goods.

  Now they divest themselves of grief

  And divide your goods as they carry you out

  To a cold, cruel bed in the ground. 20

  They haul you out through your once welcome door,

  Deprived of wealth, deprived of wonder.

  Why couldn’t you just have cared for me

  While I lived in your home, a hallowed guest,

  Instead of loading me down with sin, 25

  Leaving me alone, ashamed and suffering?

  Alas, that I ever sought to sustain

  This house of flesh, this sorry carcass.

  You never sought the counsel of wise men,

  Holy teachers who could heal your thinking. 30

  You never offered alms to the poor

  Or wealth to anyone who would pray for you.

  With their psalms and songs, they might have erased