The Complete Old English Poems

by Craig Williamson

  The sea-strength grew—that wave-warrior

  Assaulted the earth. Old shield-bearers wept—

  Their weapons were useless against the ocean.

  The unholy heathens wanted desperately to flee

  From the savage flood, striving to survive, 1580

  Climbing the hills and cowering in caves,

  But a holy angel held them back,

  Blanketing the city with a battle-flame,

  A blade of fire, a searing death-slash.

  Those twin warriors of flame and flood 1585

  Imprisoned the people. There was no escape.

  The water welled up, the fire descended—

  Men mourned, women wailed, people perished.

  Every cry in that city was a death-dirge.

  Wind blew waves of fire over every wall, 1590

  And the water rose up from floor to ceiling.

  Lamentation was heard throughout the land.

  Out of the chaos rose a lonely voice,

  The mournful sound of a suffering wretch,

  Lamenting to the lost crowd, saying: 1595

  “Now in our terror we can see the truth—

  That we unjustly shackled this poor stranger,

  Tormenting the sinless with scorn and scourge,

  Torturing the guiltless with blood-hungry blades.

  Now some hideous hatred, some fierce fate, 1600

  Has descended here to punish us with pain,

  Treat us to terror, dealing out death.

  I believe it would be better to free this prisoner

  And beg God’s holy warrior for help.

  Let’s release him. Maybe he can release us 1605

  From this harrowing torment of unending wave,

  Wind, and fire. Maybe he can rise above revenge

  To banish the flames and bring us peace

  In place of punishment. We must look to him

  For any hope and protection, any end to sorrow.” 1610

  Then the bearing and behavior of the people

  Was known to Andrew immediately in his heart—

  That the mighty heathen warriors were humbled.

  Still the sea flowed in and the water rose

  Up to their bellies, up to their breasts, 1615

  Up to their shoulders, up to their necks.

  Then the sacred warrior, the soldier of God,

  Commanded the rivers to run down,

  The streams to be still, the angry ocean

  To return to its bed, the fires to cool, 1620

  The sea-storms to cease, the sword to sheathe,

  The waves to draw back from the broken walls.

  The wise one walked out of his prison,

  Unbound, undefeated, dear to his God.

  The waves parted and a road was readied, 1625

  A street through the sea-stream. The land was dry

  Wherever the holy saint set down his foot.

  The people rejoiced, the waves recoiled—

  Help had arrived after all their agony.

  Andrew invited the tempestuous sea 1630

  To be still. He opened an abyss in the earth

  With unwavering power to drain the waves.

  The water rushed down and sinners sank,

  The worst of the heathens, the cruelest of criminals.

  Fourteen of the fiercest fiends slid straight 1635

  Down into hell to the demons’ delight.

  Many of the survivors were sorely afraid.

  They expected grim torment and righteous terror,

  The savagery and slaughter of men and women,

  The cruelest of miseries beyond human ken, 1640

  When they saw their kin, stained by sin,

  Marked by murder, plunge into the abyss.

  Then all together they declared as one:

  “Now we can see that the King of all creatures,

  The Ruler of the world, both heaven and earth, 1645

  Sent this holy herald as a gift to our people,

  And we threw him in prison, blind to God’s truth.

  The all-powerful Lord has prevailed over us.

  Now we should eagerly obey the commands

  Of his faithful servant, his chosen champion.” 1650

  Then Andrew began to gladden the hearts

  Of the waiting warriors with these words:

  “Fear not in this dark hour your own destruction,

  Even though those sinners are headed toward hell,

  For the radiance of glory will reveal the truth 1655

  To those who realize and repent their crimes

  And live mindfully in the Lord’s light.”

  Then Andrew prayed to the Son of God

  To save those young men who lost their lives

  In the bitter embrace of the fierce flood, 1660

  So that their eternal souls, stained with sin,

  Devoid of goodness, denied grace,

  Deprived of glory, should not be gathered

  In the grasp of demons in the hold of hell.

  When the saint’s message made its way 1665

  From Andrew’s heart to the mind of God,

  The Lord of hosts heard the holy prayer

  Of the humble hero and commanded the dead

  To rise up alive from their watery graves.

  Then I heard that a holy miracle occurred— 1670

  Many young men rose from the dead,

  Restored in body, refreshed in spirit,

  Even though they had lost their lives before

  In the sudden attack of the savage flood.

  They received baptism and a promise of peace, 1675

  A covenant with God, a pledge of protection—

  His grace and glory in a place beyond torment.

  Then the spirited hero, the mighty saint,

  The King’s craftsman, commanded them all

  To build a church, raise up God’s temple 1680

  On that sacred spot, where each had been raised

  From the dead at the source of the flood, to partake

  Of the sacrament of baptism through God’s power.

  Then a festive host of men and women

  Began to gather throughout the city. 1685

  They promised to forgo their heathen faith,

  Their ancient gods, their false idols—

  To follow the Lord’s will, accept his laws,

  And live in the promise of his eternal love.

  They embraced this faith and boldly approached 1690

  God’s holy messenger for a bath of baptism.

  The sacrament was established and embraced by all

  Who promised to serve God and follow his faith.

  The church was consecrated in the eyes of God.

  The Lord’s commandments were the law of the land. 1695

  Then Saint Andrew chose a man named Plato,

  Who was bold in spirit, wise in words,

  To serve as bishop in that glorious city

  And consecrated him in his apostolic office

  For the people’s need. He charged the faithful 1700

  To follow God’s teachings and seek salvation.

  Then Andrew admitted that his spirit was eager

  To leave that city of worldly wealth,

  Of gold and gift-giving, of silver and song-sharing,

  Of the joys of the great high-gabled halls. 1705

  He said he would seek a swift sea-slider,

  A sure wave-walker down by the shore.

  It was hard for the multitude to hear this news,

  That God’s champion intended to return home.

  Then the God of glory, the Lord of hosts, 1710

  Appeared to Andrew on his homeward journey,

  Urging him to return with these words:

  “[Why leave so quickly your beloved people

  When you have just saved their souls from sin,

  Healed their hearts, and brought them grace?] 1715


  They lament their loss, the love of their leader,

  And go about grieving, men and women together.

  They suffer great sadness and bring me their woe.

  Do not suddenly forsake this young flock

  In their nascent joy but set my name securely 1720

  In the home of their hearts. Stay in the city,

  Protector of warriors, preserver of people,

  Sharing their joy in the wine-halls of men

  For seven days’ duration. After that wait,

  You can set sail for home with my blessing.” 1725

  So Andrew returned to Mermedonia once more,

  Bold-hearted, brave-spirited, eager to obey God.

  This time he had no fear of fierce foes,

  The fiendish race who once devoured their dead.

  Christian wisdom flourished there in words and works 1730

  After the people had set their eyes on Andrew,

  Heaven’s holy thane, and their hearts on the Lord.

  Andrew instructed each of them in the faith,

  Counseling and confirming them in Christ’s

  Love and law, strengthening their spirits, 1735

  Guiding the multitudes to the heavenly halls,

  The heart’s homeland where the Father, Son,

  And comforting Spirit reign forever

  In the singular radiance of the true Trinity.

  Saint Andrew attacked the heathen temples, 1740

  Destroyed the idols, erased all evil and error.

  Satan suffered deep agony in his heart

  To see his followers turn from hell’s temples

  To the happiness of heaven, from terror to truth,

  From peril to peace and a place of joy 1745

  Where demons and hell-fiends cannot come.

  Then the seven days passed as God had commanded,

  And Andrew ended his preaching in the city,

  His teaching of the people, and he took his leave.

  He readied his ship to return to Achaia, 1750

  Where he would await a brave warrior’s death,

  The sure separation of his soul from his body.

  His grim loss of life was no laughing matter

  To his savage slayer who was sent on a journey

  To the jaws of hell where he suffered the terror 1755

  Of greedy flames, friendless and alone,

  An outcast without any comfort or consolation.

  Then I heard that a host of people led Andrew,

  Their beloved leader, to the ship’s prow

  With sad spirits at the saint’s leaving. 1760

  Their hearts surged up with hot tears

  As tender sorrow touched their souls,

  And they turned to weeping. Men brought

  Their beloved mentor, the brave warrior,

  The best of men, to his ship on the strand, 1765

  Watched him sail over the seal’s road

  And slip silently beyond the sea’s horizon.

  Then they worshipped the God of glory,

  Praising his power in one voice, saying,

  “There is only one God, our holy Father, 1770

  The Lord and Creator of all living things,

  Almighty, everlasting. His right and rule,

  His promise and power, are glorious and blessed

  All over middle-earth. His holy splendor

  Makes bright each quickened creature, 1775

  Each shining saint, each shimmering angel.

  We bask in his living light and realize glory

  In his holy radiance for ever and ever.

  He is the Lord of lords, the King of kings.”

  THE FATES OF THE APOSTLES

  This poem was once thought to be an epilogue to Andreas, but is now taken to be a separate poem. It combines elements of elegiac sadness and heroic diction, along with the tone and treatment of Christian martyrologies. The poet opens with a heroic Hwæt! (Listen!), then introduces a travel-weary, heart-sad speaker like those in some of the elegies, before he goes on to briefly summarize the fates of the twelve apostles (substituting Paul for Matthias), finally concluding with a set of runic clues to indicate his identity and an appeal to sympathetic readers for their prayers and support. Donoghue notes the contrast between the heroic saints and the poetic speaker: “By bravely and willingly accepting martyrdom, the apostles gained salvation, but the narrator implies he is an ordinary sinner who must appeal for help from friends when he has to go on the lonely journey of death” (62). Greenfield similarly highlights the poem’s central contrast and connection: “Through his opening lines and double epilogue, [the poet] establishes an analogical relationship between the apostles and himself, between their preaching and his art, at the same time creating an ironic distance between their past heroic deaths and heavenly rewards, and his fearful lone journey” (Greenfield and Calder, 166).

  This poem is one of four that contains the signature of Cynewulf or Cynwulf embedded in runes; the other three are Elene: Helena’s Discovery of the True Cross in the Vercelli Book (see below) and Christ II: The Ascension and Juliana in the Exeter Book. The names and meanings of the Cynewulfian runes here and elsewhere are much debated, as is the identity of Cynewulf himself. We know almost nothing about the name or its exact significance in these poems. Frese argues that the poet finally “through the elaborate human exercise of art in each of these four runic signatures, reached, with faith and good works, toward an existence beyond the temporal human sentence [which is] literally and figuratively, the only salvation for a poet to whom words are deeds” (334). For more on Cynewulf and the runic signatures, see Brooks (123 ff.) and the articles by Elliott (1953b), Diamond (1959), and Frese in Bjork (2001); see also Niles, 2006, 285 ff., and Bjork (2013), vii ff. My reading here follows that of Elliott in most, but not all, respects. Each runic name in OE is given in the text in parenthesis with the letter value in bold; the name translated is part of the text itself. For example, “Wealth (Feoh)” means that the F rune, called Feoh, means wealth.

  The Fates of the Apostles

  Listen! World-weary, sick at heart,

  I shaped this song, gathered these stories

  From far and wide about the twelve apostles,

  Noble heroes who showed great courage

  And attained glory in the eyes of God. 5

  These faithful champions were chosen by the Lord;

  They were respected and renowned, beloved in life.

  The power and glory of the Prince’s servants

  Were known to all men across middle-earth.

  Theirs was no small fame. The sacred band 10

  Was guided by lots and God’s hand

  To the places where they could glorify God’s law,

  Making it manifest to a multitude of people.

  Some of these brave and notable men

  Lost their lives in the city of Rome 15

  Through the terrible treachery of Nero—

  These were the apostles, Peter and Paul.

  Apostleship is honored throughout the world.

  Andrew also risked his life before the cruel

  Ægias in Achaia. He refused to bow 20

  To any earthly king or temper his faith

  To any powerful tyrant. God’s champion

  Chose eternal life, the unworldly, timeless

  Light of the Lord, when the battle-bold warrior

  Entered the fray, embracing his fate 25

  As God willed it, and climbed on the cross.

  Listen! We have also heard from holy men,

  Learned in the scriptures, about John’s lineage—

  Because of his kin he was dearest to Christ

  Among mortal men, once the King of glory, 30

  The Creator of angels, the Father of mankind,

  Descended from heaven through the doors of delivery,

  Entering our world through a virgin’s womb.

  John taught the words of Jesus in Ephes
us,

  Where he also sought through the doors of death 35

  The rapture of life, the radiance of heaven.

  Nor was John’s brother James slow to serve

  In the face of death. Among the Jews,

  James was forced by the unholy Herod

  To brave the unsheathed sword’s bite 40

  And leave life, his soul sheared from his body.

  Philip preached among the peoples of Asia

  Where he also sought eternal life

  By climbing the gallows-tree, the cross

  Where he was hung by a hostile mob 45

  In Hierapolis. The cruel ones crucified him.

  Far and wide it’s no great secret

  That bold Bartholomew, a valiant servant

  Who endured strife, served in India.

  The heathen Astrages, blind in his heart, 50

  Ordered his head severed at Albanapolis

  Because he would not bow down to idols

  Or worship false images as they demanded.

  He lost his head and gained great glory.

  The joy of heaven seemed far more precious 55

  To him than false gods and worldly goods.

  Likewise Thomas traveled to parts of India,

  Where hearts were healed and minds enlightened

  Through his trusted teaching of the holy word.

  This bold-hearted man of exalted spirit 60

  And astonishing skill, through the Lord’s power,

  Boldly raised the king’s brother from the dead

  Before the multitudes. The young man

  Whose name was Gad was battle-brave.

  Later Thomas yielded his life to the people 65

  In a cruel conflict when a heathen sword

  Slashed through his body, freeing his soul

  To seek out the light of heaven as his reward

  For virtue and victory as the saint went down.

  Listen! We have heard from the holy books 70

  That truth was revealed, God’s great glory,

  To the Ethiopians through Matthew’s teaching.

  As the day dawned, the radiant sun

  Awakened a belief in the Lord’s light,

  Illuminating the minds of the multitudes. 75

  Through the Son’s love, the land was cleansed.

  Unfortunately, Irtacus, the bloodthirsty king,

  Ordered Matthew killed with savage weapons.

  We have heard that James suffered death in Jerusalem

  Before the priests. The steadfast man 80

  Fell to the ground, battered to death

  By a cruel cudgel—he fell prey to hatred.

  That human malice was no misery to him:

  He was blessed and happy at his life’s end,