The Complete Old English Poems

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The Complete Old English Poems Page 57

by Craig Williamson

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;

 

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