Part 4
I was once an armed warrior. Now the worthy youth Gorgeously gears me with gold and silver, Curiously twisted. At times men kiss me. Sometimes I sound and summon to battle 5 The stalwart company. A steed now carries me Across the border. The courser of the sea Now bears me o'er the billows, bright in my trappings. Now a comely maiden covered with jewels Fills my bosom with beer. On the board now I lie 10 Lidless and lonely and lacking my trappings. Now fair in my fretwork at the feast I hang In my place on the wall while warriors drink. Now brightened for battle, on the back of a steed A war-chief shall bear me. Then the wind I shall breathe, 15 Shall swell with sound from someone's bosom. At times with my voice I invite the heroes, The warriors to wine; or I watch for my master, And sound an alarm and save his goods, Put the robber to flight. Now find out my name.
8. Cosijn's reading has been adopted for the first half line.
XV. A Badger
My throat is like snow, and my sides and my head Are a swarthy brown; I am swift in flight. Battle-weapons I bear; on my back stand hairs, And also on my cheeks. O'er my eyes on high 5 Two ears tower; with my toes I step On the green grass. Grief comes upon me If the slaughter-grim hunter shall see me in hiding, Shall find me alone where I fashion my dwelling, Bold with my brood. I abide in this place 10 With my strong young children till a stranger shall come And bring dread to my door. Death then is certain. Hence, trembling I carry my terrified children Far from their home and flee unto safety. If he crowds me close as he comes behind, 15 I bare my breast. In my burrow I dare not Meet my furious foe (it were foolish to do so), But, wildly rushing, I work a road Through the high hill with my hands and feet. I fail not in defending my family's lives; 20 If I lead the little ones below to safety, Through a secret hole inside the hill, My beloved brood, no longer need I Fear the offense of the fierce-battling dogs. 25 Whenever the hostile one hunts on my trail, Follows me close, he will fail not of conflict, Of a warm encounter, when he comes on my war-path, If I reach, in my rage, through the roof of my hill And deal my deadly darts of battle 30 On the foe I have feared and fled from long.
29. The "deadly darts of battle" have caused "porcupine" to be proposed as a solution to this riddle, though when all the details are considered "badger" seems on the whole the more reasonable.
XXIII. A Bow
My name is spelled _AGOB_ with the order reversed. I am marvelously fashioned and made for fighting. When I am bent and my bosom sends forth Its poisoned stings, I straightway prepare 5 My deadly darts to deal afar. As soon as my master, who made me for torment, Loosens my limbs, my length is increased Till I vomit the venom with violent motions, The swift-killing poison I swallowed before. 10 Not any man shall make his escape, Not one that I spoke of shall speed from the fight, If there falls on him first what flies from my belly. He pays with his strength for the poisonous drink, For the fatal cup which forfeits his life. 15 Except when fettered fast, I am useless. Unbound I shall fail. Now find out my name.
XXVI. A Bible
A stern destroyer struck out my life, Deprived me of power; he put me to soak, Dipped me in water, dried me again, And set me in the sun, where I straightway lost 5 The hairs that I had. Then the hard edge Of the keen knife cut me and cleansed me of soil; Then fingers folded me. The fleet quill of the bird With speedy drops spread tracks often Over the brown surface, swallowed the tree-dye, 10 A deal of the stream, stepped again on me, Traveled a black track. With protecting boards Then a crafty one covered me, enclosed me with hide, Made me gorgeous with gold. Hence I am glad and rejoice At the smith's fair work with its wondrous adornments. 15 Now may these rich trappings, and the red dye's tracings, And all works of wisdom spread wide the fame Of the Sovereign of nations! Read me not as a penance! If the children of men will cherish and use me, They shall be safer and sounder and surer of victory, 20 More heroic of heart and happier in spirit, More unfailing in wisdom. More friends shall they have, Dear and trusty, and true and good, And faithful always, whose honors and riches Shall increase with their love, and who cover their friends 25 With kindness and favors and clasp them fast With loving arms. I ask how men call me Who aid them in need. My name is far famed. I am helpful to men, and am holy myself.
1. Here, of course, a "codex," or manuscript of a Bible is in the writer's mind. He describes first the killing of the animal and the preparation of the skin for writing. Then the writing and binding of the book is described. Last of all, the writer considers the use the book will be to men.
XLV. Dough
In a corner I heard a curious weak thing Swelling and sounding and stirring its cover. On that boneless body a beautiful woman Laid hold with her hands; the high-swelled thing She covered with a cloth, the clever lord's daughter.
XLVII. A Bookworm
A moth ate a word. To me that seemed A curious happening when I heard of that wonder, That a worm should swallow the word of a man, A thief in the dark eat a thoughtful discourse 5 And the strong base it stood on. He stole, but he was not A whit the wiser when the word had been swallowed.
LX. A Reed
I stood on the strand to the sea-cliffs near, Hard by the billows. To the home of my birth Fast was I fixed. Few indeed are there Of men who have ever at any time 5 Beheld my home in the hard waste-land. In the brown embrace of the billows and waves I was locked each dawn. Little I dreamed That early or late I ever should With men at the mead-feast mouthless speak forth 10 Words of wisdom. It is a wondrous thing, And strange to the sight when one sees it first That the edge of a knife and the active hand And wit of the earl who wields the blade Should bring it about that I bear unto thee 15 A secret message, meant for thee only, Boldly announce it, so that no other man May speak our secrets or spread them abroad.
1. This riddle occurs in the manuscript just before _The Husband's Message_, and some editors think that in the riddle we have a proper beginning for the poem. First is the account of the growth of the reed, or block of wood, then the account of its voyages, and last the message conveyed. There is really no way of telling whether the poems were meant to go together.
EXETER GNOMES
[Critical edition: Blanche Colton Williams, _Gnomic Poetry in Anglo-Saxon_, New York, 1914.
There are two sets of gnomes or proverbs in Old English. The Exeter collection, from which these are taken, consists of three groups. The second group, which contains the justly popular lines about the Frisian wife, is typical of the whole set.]
Group II
All frost shall freeze, fire consume wood, Earth grow its fruits. Ice shall bridge water, Which shall carry its cover and cunningly lock 75 The herbs of earth. One only shall loose The fetter of frost, the Father Almighty. Winter shall away, the weather be fair, The sun hot in summer. The sea shall be restless. The deep way of death is the darkest of secrets. 80 Holly flames on the fire. Afar shall be scattered The goods of a dead man. Glory is best. A king shall with cups secure his queen, Buy her with bracelets. Both shall at first Be generous with gifts. Then shall grow in the man 85 The pride of war, and his wife shall prosper, Cherished by the folk; cheerful of mood, She shall keep all counsel and in kindness of heart Give horses and treasure; before the train of heroes With full measure of mead on many occasions 90 She shall lovingly greet her gracious lord, Shall hold the cup high and hand him to drink Like a worthy wife. Wisely shall counsel The two who hold their home together. The ship shall be nailed, the shield be bound, 95 The light linden-wood. When he lands in the haven, To the Frisian wife is the welcome one dear: The boat is at hand and her bread-winner home, Her own provider. She invites him in And washes his sea-stained garments and gives him new ones to wear: 100 It is pleasant on land when the loved one awaits you. Woman shall be wedded to man, and her wickedness oft shall disgrace him; Some are firm in their faith, some forward and curious And shall love a stranger while their lord is afar. A sailor is long on his course, but his loved one awaits his coming, 105 Abides what can not be controlled, for the time will come at last For his home return, if his health permit, and the heaving waters High over his head do not hold him imprisoned.
THE FATES OF MEN
[Text: Grein-Wülcker, _Bibliothek der Angelsächischen Poesie_, iii, 148. The poem is typical of a large group of Old English poems which give well-known sayings or proverbs. Other poems of this group are _The Gifts of Men_, _The Wonders of Creation_, _A Father's Instructions to His Son_, and the like.]
Full often through the grace of God it happens That man and wife to the world bring forth A babe by birth; they brightly adorn it, And tend it and teach it till the time comes on 5 With the passing of years when the young child's limbs Have grown in strength and sturdy grace. It is fondled and fed by father and mother And gladdened with gifts. God alone knows What fate shall be his in the fast-moving years. 10 To one it chances in his childhood days To be snatched away by sudden death In woeful wise. The wolf shall devour him, The hoary heath-dweller. Heart-sick with grief, His mother shall mourn him; but man cannot change it. 15 One of hunger shall starve; one the storm shall drown. One the spear shall pierce; one shall perish in war. One shall lead his life without light in his eyes, Shall feel his way fearing. Infirm in his step, One his wounds shall bewail, his woeful pains-- 20 Mournful in mind shall lament his fate. One from the top of a tree in the woods Without feathers shall fall, but he flies none the less, Swoops in descent till he seems no longer The forest tree's fruit: at its foot on the ground 25 He sinks in silence, his soul departed-- On the roots now lies his lifeless body. One shall fare afoot on far-away paths, Shall bear on his back his burdensome load, Tread the dewy track among tribes unfriendly 30 Amid foreign foemen. Few are alive To welcome the wanderer. The woeful face Of the hapless outcast is hateful to men. One shall end life on the lofty gallows; Dead shall he hang till the house of his soul, 35 His bloody body is broken and mangled: His eyes shall be plucked by the plundering raven, The sallow-hued spoiler, while soulless he lies, And helpless to fight with his hands in defense Against the grim thief. Gone is his life. 40 With his skin plucked off and his soul departed, The body all bleached shall abide its fate; The death-mist shall drown him-- doomed to disgrace. The body of one shall burn on the fire; The flame shall feed on the fated man, 45 And death shall descend full sudden upon him In the lurid glow. Loud weeps the mother As her boy in the brands is burned to ashes. One the sword shall slay as he sits in the mead-hall Angry with ale; it shall end his life, 50 Wine-sated warrior: his words were too reckless! One shall meet his death through the drinking of beer, Maddened with mead, when no measure he sets To the words of his mouth through wisdom of mind; He shall lose his life in loathsome wise, 55 Shall shamefully suffer, shut off from joy, And men shall know him by the name of self-slayer, Shall deplore with their mouths the mead-drinker's fall. One his hardships of youth through the help of God Overcomes and brings his burdens to naught, 60 And his age when it comes shall be crowned with joy; He shall prosper in pleasure, in plenty and wealth, With flourishing family and flowing mead-- For such worthy rewards may one well wish to live! Thus many the fortunes the mighty Lord 65 All over the earth to everyone grants, Dispenses powers as his pleasure shall lead him. One is favored with fortune; one failure in life; One pleasure in youth; one prowess in war, The sternest of strife; one in striking and shooting 70 Earns his honors. And often in games One is crafty and cunning. A clerk shall one be, Weighted with wisdom. Wonderful skill Is one granted to gain in the goldsmith's art; Full often he decks and adorns in glory 75 A great king's noble, who gives him rewards, Grants him broad lands, which he gladly receives. One shall give pleasure to people assembled On the benches at beer, shall bring to them mirth, Where drinkers are draining their draughts of joy. 80 One holding his harp in his hands, at the feet Of his lord shall sit and receive a reward; Fast shall his fingers fly o'er the strings; Daringly dancing and darting across, With his nails he shall pluck them. His need is great. 85 One shall make tame the towering falcon, The hawk on his hand, till the haughty bird Grows quiet and gentle; jesses he makes him, Feeds in fetters the feather-proud hawk, The daring air-treader with daintiest morsels, 90 Till the falcon performs the feeder's will: Hooded and belled, he obeys his master, Tamed and trained as his teacher desires. Thus in wondrous wise the Warden of Glory Through every land has allotted to men 95 Cunning and craft; his decrees go forth To all men on earth of every race. For the graces granted let us give him thanks-- For his manifold mercies to the men of earth.
3. ELEGIAC GROUP
THE WANDERER
[Text used: Kluge, _Angelsächsisches Lesebuch_. It is also given in Bright's _Anglo-Saxon Reader_.
Alliterative translations: Edward Fulton, _Publications of the Modern Language Association of America_, vol. xii (1898); Pancoast and Spaeth, _Early English Poems_, p. 65.
Lines 77 ff. and 101 ff. have been compared to a passage in Keats's _Hyperion_ (book ii, 34-38).]
Often the lonely one longs for honors, The grace of God, though, grieved in his soul, Over the waste of the waters far and wide he shall Row with his hands through the rime-cold sea, 5 Travel the exile tracks: full determined is fate! So the wanderer spake, his woes remembering, His misfortunes in fighting and the fall of his kinsmen: "Often alone at early dawn I make my moan! Not a man now lives 10 To whom I can speak forth my heart and soul And tell of its trials. In truth I know well That there belongs to a lord an illustrious trait, To fetter his feelings fast in his breast, To keep his own counsel though cares oppress him. 15 The weary in heart against Wyrd has no help Nor may the troubled in thought attempt to get aid. Therefore the thane who is thinking of glory Binds in his breast his bitterest thoughts. So I fasten with fetters, confine in my breast 20 My sorrows of soul, though sick oft at heart, In a foreign country far from my kinsmen. I long ago laid my loyal patron In sorrow under the sod; since then I have gone Weary with winter-care over the wave's foamy track, 25 In sadness have sought a solace to find In the home and the hall of a host and ring-giver, Who, mindful of mercy in the mead-hall free, In kindness would comfort and care for me friendless, Would treat me with tenderness. The tried man knows 30 How stern is sorrow, how distressing a comrade For him who has few of friends and loved ones: He trails the track of the exile; no treasure he has, But heart-chilling frost-- no fame upon earth. He recalls his comrades and the costly hall-gifts 35 Of his gracious gold-friend, which he gave him in youth To expend as he pleased: his pleasure has vanished! He who lacks for long his lord's advice, His love and his wisdom, learns full well How sorrow and slumber soothe together 40 The way-worn wanderer to welcome peace. He seems in his sleep to see his lord; He kisses and clasps him, and inclines on his knee His hands and his head as in happier days When he experienced the pleasure of his prince's favors. 45 From his sleep then awakens the sorrowful wanderer; He sees full before him the fallow waves, The sea-birds bathing and beating their wings, Frost and snow falling with freezing hail. Then heavier grows the grief of his heart, 50 Sad after his dream; he sorrows anew. His kinsmen's memory he calls to his mind, And eagerly greets it; in gladness he sees His valiant comrades. Then they vanish away. In the soul of a sailor no songs burst forth, 55 No familiar refrains. Fresh is his care Who sends his soul o'er the sea full oft, Over the welling waves his wearied heart. Hence I may not marvel, when I am mindful of life, That my sorrowing soul grows sick and dark, 60 When I look at the lives of lords and earls, How they are suddenly snatched from the seats of their power, In their princely pride. So passes this world, And droops and dies each day and hour; And no man is sage who knows not his share 65 Of winter in the world. The wise man is patient, Not too hot in his heart, nor too hasty in words, Nor too weak in war, nor unwise in his rashness, Nor too forward nor fain, nor fearful of death, Nor too eager and arrogant till he equal his boasting. 70 The wise man will wait with his words of boasting Till, restraining his thoughts, he thoroughly knows Where his vain words of vaunting eventually will lead him. The sage man perceives how sorrowful it is When all the wealth of the world lies wasted and scattered. 75 So now over the earth in every land Stormed on by winds the walls are standing Rimy with hoar-frost, and the roofs of the houses; The wine-halls are wasted; far away are the rulers, Deprived of their pleasure. All the proud ones have fallen, 80 The warriors by the wall: some war has borne off, In its bloody embrace; some birds have carried Over the high seas; to some the hoar wolf Has dealt their death; some with dreary faces By earls have been exiled in earth-caves to dwell: 85 So has wasted this world through the wisdom of God, Till the proud one's pleasure has perished utterly, And the old work of the giants stands worthless and joyless. He who the waste of this wall-stead wisely considers, And looks down deep at the darkness of life, 90 Mournful in mind, remembers of old Much struggle and spoil and speaks these words: 'Where are the horses? Where are the heroes? Where are the high treasure-givers? Where are the proud pleasure-seekers? Where are the palace and its joys? Alas the bright wine-cup! Alas the burnie-warriors! 95 Alas the prince's pride! How passes the time Under the shadow of night as it never had been! Over the trusty troop now towers full high A wall adorned with wondrous dragons. The strength of the spear has destroyed the earls, 100 War-greedy weapons, Wyrd inexorable; And the storms strike down on the stony cliffs; The snows descend and seize all the earth In the dread of winter; then darkness comes And dusky night-shade. Down from the north 105 The hated hail-storms beat on heroes with fury. All on earth is irksome to man; Oft changes the work of the fates, the world under the firmament. Here treasure is fleeting; here true friends are fleeting; Here comrades are fleeting; here kinsmen are fleeting. 110 All idle and empty the earth has become.' So says the sage one in mind, as he sits and secretly ponders. Good is the man who is true to his trust; never should he betray anger, Divulge the rage of his heart till the remedy he knows That quickly will quiet his spirit. The quest of honor is a noble pursuit; 115 Glory be to God on high, who grants us our salvation!"
1. These opening lines are typical of the group of poems usually known as the "Elegies"--this and the next four poems in the book. It is probable that the poems of this group have no relation with one another save in general tone--a deep melancholy that, though present in the other old English poems is blackest in these.
15. _Wyrd:_ the "Fate" of the Germanic peoples. The Anglo-Saxon's life was overshadowed by the power of Wyrd, though Beowulf says that "a man may escape his Wyrd--if he be good enough."
87. Ancient fortifications and cities are often referred to in Anglo-Saxon poetry as "the old work of the giants."
THE SEAFARER
[Edition used: Kluge, _Angelsächsisches Lesebuch_.
Up to line 65 this is one of the finest specimens of Anglo-Saxon poetry. It expresses as few poems in English have done the spirit of adventure, the _wanderlust_ of springtime. The author was a remarkable painter of the sea and its conditions. From line 65 to the end the poem consists of a very tedious homily that must surely be a later addition.
The use of the first person throughout and the opposing sentiments expressed have caused several scholars to consider the first part of the poem a dialogue between a young man eager to go to sea and an old sailor. The divisions of the speeches suggested have been as follows:
(By Hönncher) (By Kluge) (By Rieger) 1-33a Sailor 1-33 Sailor 1-38a Sailor 33b-38 Youth 34-64 or 66 Youth 33b-38 Youth 39-43 Sailor 39-47 Sailor 44-52 Youth 48-52 Youth 53-57 Sailor 53-57 Sailor 58-64a Youth 58-71 Youth 71-end Sailor
Sweet, in his _Anglo-Saxon Reader_, objects to these theories since there are not only no headings or divisions in the manuscript to indicate such divisions, but there are no breaks or contrasts in the poem itself.