{{unlinked}} '''The Lays of Boethius''' By King Alfred the Great (Born 849; Reigned 870-899 A.D.) Translated into modern English by Walter John Sedgefield Litt.D. (1900) Grammatically updated and Introduction by Christopher Miller B.A.,B.Ed.,M.A. (2005) '''INTRODUCTION''' Alfred the Great ruled the West Saxons from the time of his election by the Witanagamot (House of Lords) in 870 to his death in 899 A.D. He founded England as a united entity, which was later to grow into the British Empire. His importance in this regard has been acknowledged ever since. He is in fact the only English ruler to have been given the title ‘The Great’. Not even the mythical King Arthur himself received this label. Now, Alfred’s contribution to England’s greatness was not limited to merely political undertakings. Certainly, his defeat of the Danish (Viking) invaders and the bringing-together of many of the Anglo-Saxons under his rule was of primary importance, but he planted far more seeds of power than merely these. He reformed the army, creating systems of regular-interval relief for soldiers: normally six-month periods. He greatly magnified if not altogether founded the English navy, even to the point of designing more effective vessels himself. Even the United States navy traces its origins to King Alfred. He established the school-system where the primary language of instruction was English, Latin being an advanced study for some. He saw proficiency in English as being far more conducive to promoting literacy than proficiency in foreign languages. He saw literacy as crucial for the development of the country, reading being a far quicker, convenient and more exact method of learning than word-of-mouth instruction alone: and he threatened his aristocrats with the loss of their positions if they would not learn to read. He founded a school where aristocrats’ sons went to be educated in English literature, studying books that in most cases he was intimately involved with as will be made clear. You see, he himself translated several important works into English, and had others translate others, and by doing so essentially founded English literature. His choices involved texts that taught about leadership, history and geography: Church, English and world. He was a lover of the Saxon poems and of his language. His vast learning and very difficult life imparted to him a deep understanding of human affairs. He used this wisdom not only for military and intellectual pursuits but also for creating the legal system, based on older Saxon customs and his own selection and interpretation of Old Testament laws. If we list his areas of achievement: 1. Army 2. Navy 3. Schools 4. English Literature 5. English Law, we at once recognize not only the pillars of strength providing the foundations for later British world power, but also, particularly regarding areas 2 to 5, major distinctive contributions to all of humanity. The English navy, schools, literature and law all served as uniquely important models for the development of many of the nations that make up the modern world. In Alfred’s life and works we can discern the formation of the English national character that sustained the nation for more than a millennium after his reign had ended: a) inquisitiveness b) fascination for other cultures and civilizations (particularly for Greece and Rome) c) bookishness and a love of literacy d) interest in fair-play. Besides having designed new battleships, one of his other major inventions was a kind of lantern that would enable the studious to read at night without the light being blown out by a sudden draft. As far as we can tell from our sources and from his works, he was a truly ‘good’ ruler: a very rare thing in history. This now brings us to the topic at hand: his hobby and crowning literary achievement: The Lays of Boethius, which can teach us a lot about the qualities this ‘good’ ruler prized most and that he wanted to spread to his entire ruling class. Alfred first translated, interpreted, added-to, subtracted-from and modified the famous “Consolation of Philosophy” by the 6th Century Roman senator and philosopher Boethius into English prose, and then he altered it again, transforming it into a heroic Anglo-Saxon poem. We should emphasize that this poem is certainly even looser than a paraphrase of the original. In fact, it is an original work, the most original by Alfred, even if based on and inspired by the book of Boethius. Alfred’s choice of this book as his model comes as no surprise. It contains the instruction of a wise Roman senator for all realms of life, from rulership to natural science, combined with a philosophy of how to deal with adversity and misfortune. It is a work that can provide plenty of ‘food for thought’ for leaders and readers. Alfred added his own wisdom to that of Boethius, making the resulting poem not only fascinating from a cultural standpoint, incorporating Greek, Roman, Pagan, Christian and Germanic lore, but also from that of political affairs: a realm that none of us can escape. So, as we read the poem, the greatest literary achievement of England’s greatest king, let us not merely enjoy the story, but rather try to learn what he is trying to teach us, as there is no doubt that that is what he most wants us his readers to do. '''ON READING THE POEM''' It certainly helps to carry some thoughts into the reading before embarking on it. They are listed here: 1. Try not to be overly focussed on deciphering the exact grammar of the work. The word order sometimes is a bit at variance to what you might have grown to expect by reading modern English prose. Simply be aware that the common modern Subject-Verb-Object order may be rearranged into Subject-Object-Verb or other orders. The sense of the passage at hand should make the meaning clear. Try to read, absorb and enjoy before getting nitpicky about exact meanings and so on. Please remember that this was written as a poem, a song, and indeed to put it in 21st Century lingo, a ‘rap’. It was to be chanted, and the enjoyment was to come as much from the rhythms and word-associations as it was to come from the ideas presented. One suggested way of reading the rhythms is to read each half-line in one beat, make a short pause and then read the next half-line in the same time. You will find that a nice rhythm develops that is quite enjoyable to read and to hear. Many modern songs are enjoyed without the listeners grasping what they exactly mean. The famous song “American Pie” is a case in point. The songwriter even admitted that there is no particular ‘deep-meaning’ to the lyrics, which were composed primarily for their rhythmical and associative effects. Of course, the poem here is meant to be very meaningful at various levels of experience, but it is our hope that you will not focus overly on one at the expense of the others. 2. Please be aware that this is not a ‘religious’ poem. Even though King Alfred has chosen to use terms referring to ‘God’ and ‘Christ’ at various points, the original text he was inspired by is quite pagan in nature written by a Roman Senator who shows no signs of believing whatsoever in the Christian religion. In fact, its wisdom-references are to Homer, Plato, pagan Roman statesmen, and even, by the inclusion of Alfred, Weland the mythical Germanic smith of the sagas. And, while Alfred includes reference to his own Christian faith, we must not confuse what his faith meant to him with what more modern versions of Christianity have meant to their modern followers. In Alfred’s day Christianity was a beacon of learning, literacy and wisdom in practical worldly affairs as much as it was a focus for hope in heaven and so on. The image of God to Alfred is that of a great king surrounded by his thanes, a mighty ruler and invincible warrior, sitting upon the throne in his hall high up in heaven. There is nothing meek, mild or pacifist about Him. He is literally the “Lord of Hosts”: in essence not too different from Woden, just three hundred million times more powerful. 3. For those who are J.R.R.Tolkien fans, this poem should be particularly meaningful. It is well known that Beowulf provided an enormous inspiration for Tolkien in his endeavour to create a national mythology for the English, but it is less well-known that this poem of Alfred’s was also of formative value for him. In fact, Tolkien’s basic plot concerning good versus evil is inspired by Alfred’s Lays. This subject would need a whole article unto itself to explain in detail, and luckily someone has written about this and made the connections evident for us. See Tom Shippey, The Road to Middle-Earth, pg. 140, ISBN 0395339731, (1983). '''SEVEN BASIC POINTS ABOUT POWER''' The following basic-survival considerations would have been close to Alfred’s heart always as ruler of a nation at war. '''Nutrition''': 1. People need water. 2. People need carbohydrates (from farming grains). 3. People need protein (from livestock etc). '''Security''': 4. People need to feel they can trust each other (shared symbols, religion, literature, festivals etc). 5. Retaliation is more effective than defence. 6. An unpredictable level of retaliation is more effective than a pre-determined one. '''Economy''': 7. Trade is the surest way to wealth: the more trade there is the wealthier are the nations taking part and the happier the people. '''HOW TO GAIN POWER''' Alfred knew all about how to gain and keep power. Certainly he had good connections and family ties to begin with, but he knew how to manipulate things to his advantage. He knew how to recruit and keep useful ‘friends’, such as the Welsh scholar Asser who wrote a flattering biography of him. He knew how to inspire followers and how to spot talent amongst them. The following list of points are based on what we know of Alfred through his actions, writings and what others wrote about him. They can be applied to anyone anywhere. 1. You need strong friendships. 2. Friends must trust each other. 3. To gain friends you must appear generous to them. 4. You must prove your loyalty to your friends to gain more trust. 5. You prove loyalty by doing selfless acts for your friends, that really benefit them. 6. You must not focus only on getting friends in high positions. Focus on getting loyal friends who nevertheless have some kind of useful skills. You may be surprised at what kind of connections can be made. Don’t ever show jealousy or envy towards friends with more wealth – this makes you look needy and burdensome. However, appear impressed and happy for your wealthier friends. 7. You can get more friends if you have useful skills. 8. Try to make friends and connections as often as possible. Don’t be rude to anyone, since you don’t know who they know or what might come back at you later. 9. Appear proud of your successes and achievements: people like friends who can get things done. However, never appear proud of yourself: ONLY be proud of what you have accomplished. Share your pride and happiness in your accomplishments with your friends. Attribute some of your success to them: that binds you all closer together. 10. Show that you are reliable by always keeping your word, and by telling the truth. Remember that trust is number one. However, this is only for your friends or potential friends and acquaintances. You should do the exact opposite for enemies: trick them. But, you should minimize the number of enemies as much as possible. 11. Express dislike or disgust for certain types of people who are genuinely bad. This will prove to your friends that you like them, since they know who your hate is directed towards, and it isn’t them. Remember, everyone carries feelings of disgust or dislike to certain other people. “Someone who is everyone’s friend is no one’s friend”. 12. Make a point of doing what you can to help a friend achieve his/her successes. The more you help others, within reason, the more they will be grateful and help you back: since they can see how helping you will further help them. 13. Demonstrate credibility by staying loyal to your family. People who can’t be loyal to their own family have little credibility with mere friends who aren’t even related. 14. Master the arts of communication specific to your culture. In our case, this entails mastering the art of ‘gab’ and the combined arts of reading and writing known together as ‘literacy’ and we must not forget etiquette nor symbolism. Spend a lot of time talking and socializing with friends and reading books. Often, leaders read a lot of books out loud in order to sharpen their oral skills. Now, don’t forget that reading is the most efficient form of communication: it is possible to read much faster than to listen. You can get knowledge fastest through reading and send out your opinion fastest through text. 15. Try your best to get reputable ‘titles’ to your name to make yourself seem more important than you really are. University (especially graduate) degrees, scholarships, awards, knighthoods and so on all make you seem important. Be careful that they are legitimate though: even one illegitimate title takes away all your credibility. And, never lie about these things. 16. Be dramatic and exercise enough to look healthy and energetic: people like drama and those who have the energy to get things done. These two attributes combine into ‘charisma’. 17. People like friends who are positive and not critical. Don’t criticize friends or their ideas, and always look at the positive in any personal situation. If you want to influence friends’ ideas then do so by putting forward new ideas, not by tearing apart theirs. 18. Choose one or more successful past leaders as role models and use their experiences and characteristics to weave your own life. 19. Once you have your solid set of connections and a network of friends, you will notice your life getting ‘easier’. 20. Set up occasions where you appear ‘brave’ and ‘skillful’ (e.g. winning a battle, doing something remarkable, publishing a book, being the first to do something etc). News of these events will get you respect and more friends. 21. Use your reputation, skills and connections to land yourself an influential position in society. BE AMBITIOUS! Ambition is respected by friends. In turn, use your new position to make more friends, but always remember that you can trust your ‘old’ friends the most, since they were your friends even before you became ‘anything’. Don’t openly show favouritism to your old friends over your new friends, but favour them secretly anyways and make them aware of this favouritism so they don’t get jealous of your new friends and sabotage you. 22. Try to make friends with people before they become ‘anything’ since when they do assume positions of power, they will trust you as someone who likes them for ‘who they are’ as opposed to for ‘what they are’. 23. Never strongly ask anyone for help, since it will make you seem a burden and you will lose friends. Instead, if you really need some help, make friends aware of your problem, and maybe ask for a little bit of help that they can easily and/or happily provide. Emergencies are obviously completely different matters. Your friends should be happy to help you in times of emergency. 24. How successful you become at reaching your goals will depend on how well you manage the above points. '''THE ART OF MEMORY''' There are three ways that things can be transferred from short to long term memory: 1. Joining new ideas to ones you already know (e.g. reading a new book, composed of words you know but combined in different/new ways.) 2. Joining new ideas to strong emotions (e.g. a shocking event you cannot ever forget.) 3. Joining new ideas to themselves (e.g. repeating something over and over.) As babies we first learn new things by linking them with the strong emotions we may feel when encountering them. Thus, we associate nodding our heads forward, searching for milk, with a positive outlook and shaking our heads from side to side, trying to unlatch from the milk-fount, with a negative feeling. Hugging makes us feel warm, a positive thing, and we associate this action with positive feelings the rest of our lives. As we get older, however, we learn more by associating new things with already known things. If you think about it, doing something like dramatic reading would satisfy all three methods of memorizing listed above. No doubt Alfred understood this fact at least intuitively, and this would explain his desire to write the wisdom of Boethius into a stirring poem. '''THE LAYS OF BOETHIUS''' PRELUDE Thus the old tale Alfred told us, West Saxons' king. He showed the cunning, The craft of songmen. Keenly he longed Unto the people to put forth songs To make men merry, manifold stories, Lest a weariness should ward away The man self-filled, that small heed takes Of such in his pride. Again I must speak, Take up my singing, the tale far known Weave for mortals; let who will listen. LAYS I Twas long ago when the eastern Goths Sent from Scythia their swarms of shieldmen, With multitudes harried many a nation. Two tribes triumphant tramped to the south. The Goths in greatness grew year by year; Akin to the clansmen kings were there twain, Raedgod and Aleric; they ruled in power. Over Jove's mountain came many a Goth Gorged with glory, greedy to wrestle In fight with foemen. The banner flashing Fluttered on the staff. Freely the heroes All Italy over were eager to roam, The wielders of bucklers, bearing onward Even from Jove's mount on to ocean, Where in sea-streams Sicily lies, That mighty island, most famous of lands. Rudely the Roman rule was shattered; The shieldmen sacked the glorious city Rome was ravaged; Raedgod and Aleric Carried the fortress. Away fled the Caesar, Yes, and his princes, off to the Greeks. The luckless left ones, losing the combat, To the Gothic foemen gave up all, Unwilling forfeited their fathers' treasures, Their holy allegiance hard was the loss! The hearts of the heroes held with the Greeks, If they dared follow the folk's foemen. Thus things stood the folk was stressed Many a winter, till Weird appointed That Theodoric the thanes and nobles Should lord it over. This leader of them Was claimed by Christ, the king himself Brought to baptism a blessed day For the sons of Rome. They sought right soon Help from the high one; he then vowed To give the Romans all rights olden, Safe to sojourn in their wealthy city, While God him granted the Goths' dominion To own and possess. All this the prince broke. Oath after oath; Arian error He loved better than the law of the Lord. The good Pope John he judged in his anger, Robbed of his head; a heinous deed! Countless wrongs were likewise wrought By the Gothic leader on each of the good. In those days a leader in Rome was living, A high-born chieftain, cherishing his lord, While that the high-seat was held by the Greeks; A man most righteous. He was 'mid the Romans A giver of treasure glorious ever, Wise toward this world, wishful of honour, Learned in booklore; Boethius the name was That this hero had, that so highly was famed. Time after time he turned in his mind The evil and insult by alien princes Grievously given. To the Greeks he was true, Remembering the honours and ancient rights By his fathers aforetime fully enjoyed, Their love and kindness. Then with cunning He planned and brooded how he might bring The Greeks to his country, that once more the Caesar Might have full power over his people. Then to their former lords letters of embassy He sent in secret, summoning them by God, By their former faith, forthwith to him To speed Romewards; Greek senators Should rule the Romans, their rights render Free to the folk. When he found this out, Theodoric the Amuling, the thane he had seized, Charging the braves that did his bidding To hold fast the hero; fierce was his heart, The chieftain dreading. Deep in a dungeon Bolted and barred he bade them cast him. Then was the man's mood mightily troubled, The mind of Boethius. Long had he borne High state worldly; the harder it was Bravely to bear this bitter fortune. Sad was the hero he hoped for no mercy, Locked in prison; past all comfort On the floor he fell with his face downwards, Woefully spread, his sorrow speaking, Hopeless utterly, ever thinking He should linger in fetters. He called on the Lord With cheerless voice, and thus he chanted. II Ah! many a lay once so merrily I sang in my joy. Now must I sighing, Worn with weeping, a woeful outcast, Sing words of sorrow. Me has this sobbing And this wailing dazed, so that no more little songs Can I compose so impressively, though many tales Once I wove, when I was happy. Often now I find not the words familiar, I that in old times often made strange ones. Me, nearly blind, have these worldly blessings Drawn in my folly to this dim cavern, And robbed me entirely of reason and comfort With their false faith, when I had fain ever To them trusted. To me they have turned Their backs, oh! cruelly, and kept joy from me. Ah! why were you minded, my friends of this world, In speech or in song to say I was happy Here in this world? The words are not true ones. For worldly blessings abide not always. III Ah! it is fearful and fathomless deep, The murky pit where the mind toils, When the blasts of tempests beat against it Of worldly afflictions; then in its fighting Its own true light it leaves behind it, And in woe forgets the weal eternal. It dashes onward into this world's darkness, Weary with sorrows. So has it now This soul befallen, for now it nought knows Of good before God, but great grief From the world unfriendly; it wants comfort. IV O You Creator of bright constellations, Of heaven and earth; You on the high-seat Eternal reign and the round heaven All swiftly move, and through Your holy might The lights of heaven make to hear You, Even as the sun scatters darkness Of the dark night time through Your strong power, And with her pale beams the bright stars The moon does humble, through Your might's moving; At whiles too she robs the radiant sun Of his full light, when it befalls That they come together by close compulsion. So too the glorious star of morning, That we by its other name star of evening Often hear called, You constrain To follow the way where the sun goes Every year he must ever travel, Fare before him. O Father, You send Long days in summer with heat sultry; To the winter also wondrous short days Have You granted. To the trees You give South-west breezes, when the black tempest Sprung from the north-east had utterly stript them Of every leaf with its loathly wind. Behold, all creatures in the earth's compass Obey Your hests; the same do they in heaven With mind and main, save man only; He oftenest works in despite of Your will. Ah! You Eternal and You Almighty Author and Ruler of all creation, Pity the offspring of Your poor world, Even this race of men, through Your mighty power. Why, O God Eternal, grant You ever That Fate at the will of wicked mortals Should turn herself on earth so swiftly? Often to the guiltless great harm she works. The wicked are seated in worldly kingdoms Upon their high-seats, trampling the holy Under their feet; no man may find out Why Fate falls so foully awry. So also are hidden here in this world In many a borough brightest virtues, Whereas the sinful in every season Treat most evilly all those others That are more righteous, to rule more worthy. False-faced guile long has gone Wrapt up in wiles. Now here in the world Oaths basely broken bring no scathe. If You, O Chieftain, will not check Fate, But suffer her in self-will to remain, Then this do I know, that nations will doubt Far over earth's fields, all but a few. O my Sovereign, You that see All worldly creatures, with eyes of kindness Look on mortals, for they are moiling, Battling here in the world's billows, Poor folk of the earth; pity them therefore. V You may by the sun see most clearly, And by each of the other orbs of heaven That shine most brightly over the boroughs, If a dark cloud comes before them They cannot give forth such a bright gleam Till the thick mist grow thinner before them. So too the south breeze fiercely stirs The calm grey ocean clear as glass; Then mighty billows mingle the waters, Stir the whale-sea; fierce waxes ocean That but shortly before was blithe to look on. Often too the well-spring is wont to trickle From the hoar cliff, cool and sparkling, And onward flowing a straight course follows, To its home fleets, till there falls upon it A rock from the mountain, that lies in its midst Rolled from the peak; parted in twain The rill is broken, the brook's clear water Stirred and clouded; the stream is turned Away from its course, cleft into runnels. So now the darkness that dims your heart Wishes to turn back the light of my teaching, And sorely trouble your spirit's thoughts. But if you are willing, as well you may be, The light of the truth clearly to learn, The brightness of faith, then shall you forsake Vain surfeit of pleasure, profitless joys. You shall too forsake the evil fear Of worldly afflictions, nor wax ever for them Utterly hopeless; no, nor have yourself Weakened with wealth, lest with it you be Brought to sorrow through the sin of pride, And too puffed up by prosperous fortune, By joys of the world. Nor again too feebly Lose all your faith in future good, When in this world the weight of afflictions Bears on you sorely, and you are beset With utter terror; for ever it tides That a man's breast is bound most firmly With dire confusion if either of these dangers Here may trouble him, torture his spirit. For both these hardships hand in hand, A mist misleading draw over the mind, So that the sun eternal its light may not send forth For the black mists until these be blown away. VI Then Wisdom again unlocked her word-hoard. Her tale of sooth sang in these words: 'While the bright sun most clear is beaming, Gleaming in heaven, gloom enwraps Over the world all other bodies; For their light is nought, nothing at all, When set against the sun's great brightness. When softly blows from south and west The wind beneath heaven, then soon wax The flowers of the field, fain to be able. But the stiff storm-wind, when it strongly blows From out of the north-east, how soon it nips The rose's beauty! By the northern blast The spacious ocean is helpless spurned Till strongly heaving it strikes the beach. Alas, that in the world nothing wears Firm and lasting long on this earth. VII Then did Wisdom follow her wont, Glee-words chanted, changed song for speech, Of tales of sooth sang yet another: 'Never on high hill had she ever heard That any of men might make to stand A roof-fast hall; nor need any hope To have the wit to mingle wisdom, To put it together with pride overweening. Heard you ever that any of mortals On hills of sand his house could establish Firm to last him? Nor can any mortal Build up wisdom, where the hill-side Is spread with covetise. Quickly the rain Is sucked by the sand; so do the great ones, With their bottomless greed of goods and glory. They drink to the dregs this dross so fleeting, Yet the thirst of their craving is never cooled. A man may not build a house on a mountain That may long tarry; soon the tempest Swift on it sweeps. Sand is useless In deluge of rain to him that dwells In the house as master; it melts away, In the rain sinks. So with every man; His inmost mind is mightily shaken, Stirred from its station, when the strong winds, Of earthly troubles toss and tease it, Or when the ruthless rain of affliction, Boundless distress, dashes upon it. But he that ever wishes to own True joy eternal must turn and flee This world's beauty. Then let him build The house of his soul so that he find The Rock of Humility, hard and fastest, Sure foundation; he shall not slip Though that the tempest of worldly troubles Or flood of worries fiercely assail it. For in that Vale of the Lowly the Lord Himself Ever abides, owns His Home; And there too Wisdom in memory waits. A life without sorrow he always leads That chooses wisdom; it never changes, Since he disdains delights of the world, From every evil utterly free; He hopes in eternity hereafter to come. Him then everywhere God Almighty Keeps always, ever unceasing, Fast abiding in the blessed joys Of his own mind, through the Master's grace, Though often the winds of worldly troubles Batter and bruise him, or never bating Cares be fretting, when the fierce gusts Of worldly blessings blow unkindly, Though him ever the endless worry Of earthly fortune sore confound him.' VIII After Wisdom these words had spoken, Clearly set forth, soon she began Sooth words to sing, and thus she spoke 'Oh! the ancient days for all earth-dwellers Throughout the world were ever the best. Then was each man ever contented With fruits of the earth; 'tis otherwise now. Not then in the world were wealthy homes, Nor many kinds of meat and drink; Nor anything of raiment recked men then, In these days to men of all things dearest; For then such was not seen as yet, Never the sea-folk had seen it at all. No, nor anywhere of it had heard. Ah! then the sin of lust they longed not to do, But in degree they duly followed The call of nature as Christ appointed. But one meal daily they always made Of the earth's increase, at hour of even, Of plants of the wood. No wine they drank Bright from the bowl; none could boast Skill to mingle drink with his meat, Water with honey, nor to fashion by sewing Clothing of silk; nor had they cunning In costly stuffs; nor stood there halls Cleverly planned; but it was their custom In every season to sleep in the open In the deep tree-shade. They drank burn-water Cool from the spring. Never did chapman See over the sea-surge the shore of strange land; Nor had men heard of the harrying ship-host No, nor was fighting familiar to mortals. Not as yet was the earth anywhere stained With the blood of a man nor the dye of the blade, Nor even one wounded had any man witnessed Under the sun. So too none was worthy Held in the world if his will seemed Evil unto men; by all was he loathed. Oh! were it true, or would God but grant That here on earth in our days now, Over the wide world, man's wont was such Under the sun! But now 'tis more sinful, For covetous greed so clogs the soul Of every man that he heeds not other things. And in the mind boiling it burns ever, This curse of covetise, never contented, Black and bottomless blazes smouldering, Even as the mountain that mortals call By name of Etna; this on an island, Even Sicily, with sulphur burns, Hell-fire widely hight by mortals, For unceasing it smoulders ever, And all around it the rest of the land It fiercely blasts with blaze consuming. Ah! who was the first that filled with greed Dwelt in the world, and dug the ground In quest of gold and curious jewels? Wealth did he find, fatal to many, In the world hidden in water or earth. IX We all have heard what hateful deeds Far and near Nero wrought, King of the Romans, when that his rule Was first under heaven, fatal to many. The fierce one's madness men widely knew, His lawless lust and laches unnumbered, His sins and murders, misdeeds many, The cursed wiles of that wicked one. He bade for his sport with fire destroy The city of Rome that was the seat Of full dominion, for in his folly He fain would try whether the fire, Flaming brightly, would burn as long, Would rage as red, as the Romans told That Troy town was of old overtaken By the brightest of flames that longest burned In homes under heaven. A hideous thing, To take his pleasure in such perilous sport. Nought else gaining, this only regarding, To make his power far over peoples Widely renowned, over the nations. It likewise betided once on a time That this same man sent to murder All the rulers of the Senate of Rome, And all the best by birth as well That he could find among his folk; And his own brother besides he bade, Yes, and his mother, be murdered with swords, Killed with blade-edge. He himself butchered His bride with the brand, and ever was blither, Gayer of mood, the more of such murder, Such hateful wrong, he wrought on mortals. Nought did he heed whether hereafter The mighty Master would mete out vengeance, Wreak on the wicked their wrongful deeds, But in his soul was glad of his guile and sins, Bloodthirsty ever. But notwithstanding, He governed all of this glorious world, Where air and sea encircle the land And the deep sea enrings this realm of mortals, The seats of men, south, east and west, Right to the northmost nesses of earth. All bowed to Nero, for need or pleasure None was there of men but must obey him. When his pride was highest ‘twas a pretty jest How the kings of the earth he killed and harried! Do you gainsay that God Almighty Could most readily wrest his power From the boastful scourge, and strip him bare Of all dominion through the might eternal, Or utterly curb the course of his sins? Oh, that He would only, as He easily might, All such felony fain forbid him! Oh, 'twas no light yoke which that lord planted, A grievous annoy, on the necks of his thanes, Of all his lieges that in his lifetime Over this brittle world were fated to bide He with the gore of guiltless men Fouled his sword-blade, full many's the time. Thus we see clearly, as we have often said, That dominion can do no good If he that has gained it have no good will. X If any living man longs for glory, And fame without gain would fain have for his own, Then with my words would I beseech him On all sides about him far out to spy, Clearly to look, south, east, and west, And consider how broad with the clouds all about Is the vault of the sky. So may the wise man Easily deem this earth of ours By the side of that other wondrously small, Though to the witless wide it seems, To straying men strong in its place. Yet may the sage deep in his spirit Feel great shame for the lust of glory, When the thirst for fame fiercely presses, Although he may not make it to spread, In no wise whatever, over these narrow Quarters of earth. How idle is glory! Why ever, O proud ones, take you pleasure To bow your own necks beneath the yoke Heavy and grievous, glad that you may? Why do you labour so long in vain, Aim to possess fame in the world, Over the nations, more than you need? Though it befell that southward and north The uttermost denizens, dwellers of earth, In many a tongue intoned your praises; Though you were known for noblest birth, Worshipped for wealth, waxing in splendour, Dear for your valour; Death heeds these not When heaven's Governor gives him leave. But the wealthy man, and the wanting in goods, Death makes equal, in all things alike. Where now are the wise one's, Weland's bones, The worker in gold, once greatest in glory? I ask where the bones of Weland are buried For never any that on earth lives May lose any virtue lent him by Christ; Nor may one poor wretch be robbed with more ease Of his soul's virtue, than may the sun Be swung from his path, or the swift heavens Moved from their courses by the might of a man. Who now is aware of wise Weland's bones, In what barrow lying they litter the ground? Where is the senator so mighty of Rome, The bold champion of whom we chant, Head of their army, he that the name Amid the burghers, of Brutus bore? Where is the wise one that wished for fame, The people's shepherd, steadfast of purpose, That was a sage in each thing several, Keen and the cunning, Cato was called? Many long days ago these men departed; No man knows now where they be. What is left of them but their fame alone? Too slight is the glory of such teachers. For they were worthy, were those heroes, Of more in the world. But worse it is now, When over the earth, in every quarter, They and those like them are little spoken of, And some not a few are clean forgotten, And their fame cannot keep them longer Known to all men, noble heroes. Though you now deem, desire strongly, That long in the land your life may last, How ever the better can you be or seem? For Death no man leaves, though long it seem, His life-days told, if the Lord it allows. But what profit does a mortal possess In this world's glory, if he be gripped By death everlasting after this life? XI There is one Creator, we cannot doubt, And He controls every creature Of heaven and of earth, and of the high seas, And all the things that therein dwell, Of those unseen, and likewise of such As with our eyes we are able to see, Of all creation; Almighty is He. Him humbly court all things created That of their service have any knowledge, And none the less of those that know not That they minister unto the Master. In us He created ways and customs, And for all His creatures peace unaltered, Never ceasing in its nature, When that He wished whatever pleased Him, As long as He liked should live and last. So it shall be, and for ever abide; For never they may, the moving creatures, Cease from their motion, sink into rest, Swerve from the way that the Warden of heaven Has appointed for all in order unchanging. The King of all things has His creation Bound with His bridle; both has He done, Governed each one and guided them too, So that they may not against the Master's will Ever cease moving, nor ever again Go any more than the Guarder of glory Will grant unto them His reins of guidance. He has with His bridle bound earth and heaven, And the whole circle of deep sea-waters. Thus has He curbed, the King of heaven, With His control, all of His creatures, So that the one strives with other, And loath to his fellow fast does cleave, Firm upholds, fast enclasps, Lest they dash asunder. For ever their duty Again to circle on the self-same journey That at the first the Father appointed, And ever renewed again to revive. So is it fashioned, the framework ancient, That warring in hate the hostile creatures Fast and for ever firm peace maintain. Thus fire and water, firm land and ocean, And things many more, in just the same manner Over the wide world are warring together; Yet can they keep their course of service, Fellowship holding firm and abiding. Nor is it merely matter of wonder That things full of hate fare together, Remaining fellows; more fit for marvel That none of them ever can live without other, But every thing made his opposite meets Under the heavens, that humbles his pride Before that it grow too great to be borne. He has, the Almighty, to every creature Appointed its course that it must keep Growth for plants, green for leaves That in autumn later languish and fall. Winter brings very cold weather; Swift are its winds; summer then comes, The warm weather; Lo! the wan night Is lit by the moon, till the morn is brought To men by the sun over this spacious world. He has, the same God, to sea and land Their boundaries fixed; the flood dares not Over earth's borders her sway to broaden For the tribe of fishes, without the Lord's favour; Nor may she ever the threshold of earth Lightly overtread; nor may the tides either Bear the water over earth's borders. These are the commands that the glorious King, The Bright Life-Giver, does let while He will Keep within bounds His noble creatures; But when the Eternal and the Almighty Looses the reins that rule all creatures, Even the bridle wherewith He bound All that He fashioned at the first creation (By the bridle we speak of we seek to betoken The case where things are all conflicting): If the Lord lets the bridle loosen, Forthwith they all leave love and peace, The friendly union of their fellowship. All things whatever their own will follow, All world-creatures shall war together, Till this our earth utterly perish, And so also other things, in the same fashion, By their own nature become as nought. But the same God that governs all things, Brings together, many folk binds, And firmly unites in friendship's bonds; He links in wedlock the love that is pure In peaceful mateship. So too the Mighty One Fellow to fellow firmly joins, So that their friendship forth and for ever They hold, and their faith fast undoubting, Their peace unvarying. O God of victory, Most happy indeed were mankind's lot, If but their hearts could hold their course Steadily steered by Your strong might, And evenly ordered as the others are also, The world's creatures! Yes, it were truly Right merry for men, might it so be! XII Whoso fertile land fain would till, Let him promptly pluck from the field Fern and thorn, and farze-bush also, The weeds, in all places eager to injure The wheat clean-sprinkled, lest it sproutless Should lie on the land. To all folk likewise This next example no less suits: The comb of the honey cannot but seem To each son of men sweeter by half, If he have tasted before the honey Anything that is bitter. Even thus also To every mortal more welcome by far Is gentle weather, when just before Storms have assailed him, and the stiff wind Out of the north-east. No man would reckon Daylight a blessing if the dark night Had not for mortals mustered terrors. So of earth-dwellers to each it seems That blessedness true is ever the better, More pleasant by far, the more he of woe, Of cruel hardships, here endures. So you the sooner may in your soul The truest of blessings trace more clearly, And to their source soonest arrive, If first and foremost forth from your breast, Root and branch, you upwrench Happiness false, even as the farmer From his field plucks ill weeds a plenty. Then, I warrant you, you will clearly Forthwith recognize real blessings, And you will never have heed for anything else, When all plainly you do perceive them. XIII In song will I again send forth the tidings, How the Almighty, all things' Ruler, With bridle urges, bends at will His creatures with might and due measure, Marvellous well makes them hold. The Wielder of heaven has welded together, Wrapt all his creatures round and about, Fixed with fetters, so that they fail ever To find any road to wrest themselves free. And yet every creature courses along, Onward bending, bound for its goal, Seeking the kind that the King of angels, The Father at first, firmly appointed. So now all things are thitherward moving, The spacious creation, save certain angels, Save man also. Many, too many Dwellers in the world war with their nature! Though you a she-lion should meet in the land, A pleasant creature wondrously tame, Loving her master with lively affection, And yet every day dreading him also, If it befall that savour of blood She ever tastes, truly none needs Ever to hope that she will hold fast To her tameness after; well do I think, New as it is, no more she will heed it, But her wild wont will soon remember, The way of her fathers. Fierce she begins To rend her fetters, to roar and growl, And first she bites, before all others, Her own house-master, and hastily thereafter Each single man that she may meet Naught she leaves that owns life, Nor beast nor man, mangling all she finds. Thus too the wood-birds, wondrous gentle, Truly tame, if they come to the trees In the heart of the holt, soon they heed not Those that taught them, who long time before Trained them and tamed them. Wild in the trees Ever thereafter their ancient nature They gladly follow, though fain would their teachers With cunning tricks offer them tempting Even the food that in former days To tameness enticed; the twigs so pleasant Seem to their minds, the meat they heed not, So pleasant for them when woodland sounds, When they can hear the piping choir Of other song-birds; then do they send Their own notes forth. All together The sweet song raise; the wood is ringing. So too with each tree whose nature 'tis That in the grove it grows highest, Though that you bend a bough to the ground, It upward leaps when you leave The wood to its will; it goes to its kind. So too the sun when that it sinks, Noon long past; the shining lamp Hastens sinking, on his unseen journey Ventures by night; then in the north-east To men appears, to earth-dwellers brings Clear-bright morning, and over men mounts, Upward ever, until he comes To the topmost station where he highest stands. Thus every creature with all its might, Through this wide world, goes and hastens With all endeavour, eager to come Once more to its kind as soon as it can. On earth there now lives no single creature That craves not one day to come Back to its home whence it once came. Here no care racks, here rest is eternal 'Tis God Almighty, as all men know. Over the earth now there lives no creature That spins not round and on itself turns, Even as a wheel; for it so whirls That at last it stands in its ancient station And ever as soon as it has spun round, When all its round is run to the end, Then duly again it shall do what it did, And be yet again what it was of yore. XIV What avails the greedy one in earth's goods wealthy, What boot for his mind, though much he owns Of gold and of gems, and every thing good, And countless possessions; and though his ploughs till Each day for him a thousand acres? What though this middle-earth, and this race of men, Under the sun, south, west, and east, In his dominion are all dependent, When none of his trappings can he take away from here Out of this world, no, not one more Of his hoarded treasures than he brought hither? XV Though the unrighteous evil monarch, Nero the king, decked him anew In fairest raiment in wondrous fashion, With gold adorned, and goodly jewels, Yet through the world by all men of wisdom In the days of his life he was loathed and scorned, Filled with all sin. This foe of men To all his darlings dealt high favours Yet I cannot conceive how they could hold Themselves anything the better. Though for a season He chose them without virtue, this most witless king, Yet no wise man worshipped them the more. Though the man of folly make himself king, How can he reckon, the man of right reason, That he is anything better, or even so seems? XVI He that seeks power must first strive That he may of himself in his mind within Lordship compass, lest he may be ever To his sinful ways utterly subject. From out of his spirit let him speedily pluck The manifold cares that carry no profit; Let him cease a while his mournful sighing For his evil fortune; though all be his, This world of ours, wherever begirdled By ocean-waters, to him only given, As far away as in the west Outermost lies an isle in ocean, Where never is night known in summer, Nor is the day in winter divided, Into times parted, Tile (Thule) men call it-- Though that a man be sole master Of all this island, and from thence onward Even to the Indies out in the east Yes, though all this be his own to govern, How is his might any the more, If of himself control he has not, Nor of his thoughts, nor thoroughly strive Well to beware in word and in deed Of all the sins of which we were speaking? XVII All earth-dwellers one origin had, All men of the land, one like beginning; From one pair only all proceeded, From a man and woman, within the world And to this day even all men alike, The base and the high ones, are born in the world. Nor is that a marvel, for all men know That there is one God of all world-creatures, Lord of mankind, Father and Maker. He the sun lends, light out of heaven, To moon and stars; on earth He made men, And brought to the body in the beginning The soul in union; under the sky Folk He created all fully equal. Why are you therefore yourselves over others Placing ever, proud without reason, When none you are able to meet not noble? Why are you boasting now of your birth? In the mind only of every man lies The real nobility whereof I reason, Not in the flesh of the folk of earth. But every mortal that is utterly, Merely subject to his sinful ways, Soonest leaves life's Creator; Nor does he heed his own high nature, No, nor the Father that first him fashioned. For this the Almighty removes his honour, So that henceforth here in the world He goes dishonoured, nor comes to glory. XVIII Alas! that wrongful unrighteous desire, Frenzied lewdness leads to this, That of all mankind it amazes the mind, Of each and all men, nearly utterly. Lo! the wild bee is wise of nature, Yet must perish all in a moment, If in her anger anything she stings. So too a man's soul soon shall die, If that the body becomes baser By carnal desire, unless there come first Regret to his heart before he from here goes. XIX Oh! sore is the folly, consider it who will, And full of peril for every person, That wretched mortals utterly amazes, And far from the right road rapidly leads Have you the will to seek in the woodland Bright red gold among green trees? Well do I know that no wise man Will seek it there, since there it is not, Nor look in vineyards for lustrous gems. Why do you not hang nets on the hill-tops When you would fain fishes capture, Salmon and herrings? It seems likely That dwellers on earth, all of them, know, Men of sense, that such live not there. Will you go hunting, with hounds follow, In the salt sea, when you would seek Harts and hinds? Have you not knowledge That such as these you must seek in forests More often by far than out in ocean? Marvellous it is that all men know That by the sea-shore search must be made, And by river-beaches, for brightest jewels, White and crimson, and of every colour. Yes, they know also where it is needful Fishes to seek, and many such things, The wealth of the world. Well they do so, Men all yearning, year's end to year's end. But of all things this is most wretched, That fools have become so utterly blind, In midst of error, that in mind they cannot Readily tell where blessings eternal, Happiness true, are hidden away, For they will not follow in their footsteps Nor seek the blessings; robbed of sense, In this frail life they think to find it, True Happiness, God Himself. I know no means whereby I may Within my breast blame as severely Such men's folly, as fain I would do Nor can I tell you with full clearness; For they are feebler and more foolish, More severed from blessing, than I can set forth. Wealth and possessions, these they wish for, And men's worship they are eager to win. When they have compassed what their mind craves, Then do they witless think in their folly That True Happiness they have at last. XX O my Master, You are Almighty, Great and noble, in glory famous; And You are wonderful to all with wisdom! O You God Eternal of all creation, You have wondrously well created Unseen creatures, and also those That are seen of men! Softly You rule The bright creation with Your craft And power of wisdom. You to this world From first beginning forth to the ending Have dealt out seasons, as it most suited, In regular order, such that they ever Are faring out, or else returning. You Your creatures that cannot move Unto Your will wisely compel, Yourself abiding still and stirless, And unchanging for ever and ever. None is mightier, none more famous, Nor midst all creatures is Your match to be found. And as yet never have You felt need Of all the works which You have wrought, But by Your will all You have worked, And with the power that You possess. You have made the world and every creature Yet no need had You, none whatever, Of all this grandeur. 'Tis great, the nature Of Your goodness, regard it who will; For they are one only in every wise, You and Your goodness. This is Your own, For not from without to You has it come. But this I guess surely, that Your goodness is Goodness almighty, Yourself, O God; It is unlike ours in nature; From outside comes all we contain Of good in the world, from God Himself. You have no anger to anything conceived, For to You nothing knows likeness No, nor even is anything more crafty; For You all goodness by Your contriving, Alone in Your counsel carried it out. Before You there was not any creature Either to do or to leave undone; But without pattern, Prince of mankind, God Almighty, all You wrought, All very good. You are Yourself The Highest Good. Ah! You, holy Father, After Your will the world created, This earth with Your might made to be, O Chief of hosts, as You did choose, And with Your will wield all things. So You, true God, Yourself grant All good that is; for long ago You all Your creatures first created Strongly alike; yet some there were Not like in nature. One name You gave, One name only, to all together, World under sky. O God of splendour This single name You parted since, Father, into four: first the earth, Second water, part of the world, Thirdly fire, and fourthly air; These four together form the world. Yet each of these four has its own birthplace, Each possesses its proper station, Though each of them be with the other Much commingled, and with the might also Of the Father Almighty firmly united, In harmony single, smoothly together, By Your command, O kindly Father, So that none of them over another's bounds Dares trespass, for dread of the Lord, But these servants together suffer union, The King's champions, chill with heat, Wet with dryness; yet are they warring. Water and earth all increase bring, Cold in their ways the one and the other Water wet and cold round the land winds, The all-green earth, yet either is cold. Air is a mixture in the midst dwelling; Nought should we wonder that it is warm and cold, The wet cloudbank by the wind blended; For midmost it lies, as men hear tell, Between fire and earth. Full many know That highest over earth of all things created Fire lives, and land is lowest. Oh, 'tis wonderful, Chief of war-hosts, That with Your bare thought You bring to pass That to every creature with clear distinction You have fixed its marches, yet have not mixed them! Lo! for the water wet and cold The land as a floor firm have You laid; For never quiet, to every quarter Far would it flow, feeble and yielding; It would never be able, for a truth do I know, To stand by itself, but the earth it supports, And some of it also sucks adown, So that thereafter it may for the soaking Be washed with showers. Wherefore leaf and grass Broad over Britain are blooming and growing, A boon to mortals. The cold earth brings Countless fruits of marvellous kinds For with the water wet it becomes. But if this were not so, then would it certainly Dry up to dust, and then be driven By the wind afar, as often it befalls That over the land ashes are blown. On earth nothing were able to live, Nor would it any more enjoy the water, Nor dwell in it ever by any device, For mere coldness, if You, King of angels, Somewhat with fire the land and sea-stream Had not mingled, and properly measured Cold with heat by Your cunning power, So that fire cannot lurid consume Earth and sea, though it be seated Firmly in either, the Father's old work. None the less marvel to me it seems That earth and ocean are all unable, Though both cold creatures, by any contrivance Fully to quench the fire within them, Therein planted by the Lord's power. Now this is a property possessed by waters, To live upon earth and in the clouds also, And even on high above the heavens. Then the rightful region of fire, Its native home, is high over all creatures That we may behold over this wide world; Though it is mingled with every member Of world-creatures, it cannot avail To deal to one of them deadly damage, Save by the leave of our Life-Giver, Even the Eternal Almighty God. More heavy is earth than other creatures, More stoutly welded; for during a space Beneath creation it nethermost lay, Save only the firmament that this broad fabric Outside and around each day circles, Yet never touches the earth anear, Nor may it in one place more than another Nearer reach; round it speeds Above and beneath, yet equally near. Every creature whereof we recount Has for itself its separate home; Yet is it likewise linked with others, Nor may one live lonely ever, Though dimly seen be their dwelling together. Thus earth in fire and water is found; The poor of wit have pains to see it, But to the wise well it is known. So too is fire fixed fast in water, And in the stones still it lurks 'Tis hard to see, 'tis there, however. The Father of angels has bound the fire So fast and firmly that it cannot fly Again to the region where the rest of the fire High over this world in its home dwells. Soon it forsakes this frail creation, Overcome by cold, if it seeks its country Yet every creature craves to go Where its kin it finds most crowded together. You have established through Your strong might, King of war-hosts, in wondrous wise The earth so firmly that she inclines Nought to one side, nor may she sink This way nor that way more than she was wont, By nought upheld of earthly nature. It is equally easy upward or downward For this earth of men to move at will; This is most like to an egg, where lies The yolk in the middle, yet the shell moves Around outside; so stands the world Still in its station with the streams round it, The stirring floods, the air and stars, While the gleaming shell round all glides Every day, and long has done so. O God of the nations! of threefold nature A soul You have given us, that You since Move and guide through Your strong might, So that no less thereof lives In a single finger, even the smallest, Than in the whole body. But a little ago I clearly sang that the soul was In every thane a threefold creature, For all sages this do say, That three natures are seen in every soul; Passion first comes, second desire; The third is by nature nobler than the others, Reason we call it; it causes no shame, For the beasts have it not, but to man it belongs. Countless creatures contain the two others; Nearly every beast boasts desire, And likewise passion each possesses Wherefore mankind, over the world, Has other creatures all surpassed; For what men have the others have not, Even that single virtue of which we have sung. This mighty reason in every man Shall ever subdue desire to itself, And likewise passion hold in its power. She with thought the mind of a thane, And with reflection shall rule in all things. She has most might in man's spirit, And is most perfect of all his powers. Lo! You the Soul, Sender of triumph, High King of nations, thus did create, So that it turns and turns about, Round itself moving, even as all moves, The swift firmament fleetly whirling, Every day, by the Lord's great doing, This earth encircling. So does man's soul Like to a wheel she whirls round herself, Ofttimes thinking of that which is earthly, The Lord's creatures daily and nightly; Sometimes in thought she seeks herself, At others gives heed to God Eternal, Her own Creator. In course she goes Most like to a wheel, on herself whirling. When deeply she muses on Him who made her, Then up she is raised over herself; But in her own self she ever abides, When in her fancy she follows herself. Lastly she falls beneath herself far When she admires these frail things earthly, And loves them all more than law eternal. O God of ages, You gave a home in heaven to souls; You send them freely Glorious gifts, God Almighty, In measure fitting the merits of each These all are beaming bright in the heavens In the clear night, but nevertheless Not equal in light lo! we see often, When serene is the night, the stars in heaven, Not all beaming with equal brightness. O God Everlasting! You did also unite A thing of heaven to the earthly here, Soul to body; ever since they abide, Both the eternal and earthly together, The soul in the flesh. See, ever to You They yearn to go from here, for from You hither They had their source, and shall seek You again. But the body of man must ever abide Here on the earth, for coming from her He grew in the world. Together they were No longer nor less than to them was allowed By the Almighty, who ages aforetime Made them comrades; the true King is He. He fashioned the land, and filled it thereafter With manifold races, as men have told me, And sorts of beasts, mankind's Saviour. Then did He sow many a seed Of trees and plants in the tracts of earth. Grant to our minds, God Eternal, That they may to You, Master of all things, Through these miseries mount to heaven, And from these cares, kindly Father, Ruler of nations, may rise to You; That then with eyes open we may be able With the eyes of the mind, through Your aid mighty, The fount to gaze on of all goodness, Yourself to view, victorious God. Grant strong sight to the gaze of our minds, That we may on Yourself be able thereafter To fix them firmly, Father of angels. Scatter the mist that now for a season Before the eyes of our understanding Thickly has hung, heavy and darksome. Send, we pray You, to our spirits' eyes Your own light, Ruler of life; For You are the brightness, benign Father, Of the true Light; likewise You are Yourself The firm rest, Father Almighty, Of all the true ones. Tenderly You suffer That they may behold You, Yes, Yourself even. You are of all things, O nations' Ruler, Beginning and end. O angels' Father, Of all things You bear the burden lightly, Never wearied. Yourself are the Way, Yes, and the Guide, of all things living, And the goodly Bourne to which the Way bends. To You all mortals are moving ever, All men from below, in the bright creation. XXI O sons of mankind, over earth moving, Let each that has freedom find out the way To the eternal goodness whereof our speech is, And to the blessings that are our song's burden. The man that is straitly bound by the sway Of the worthless love of this world glorious, Let him right soon seek for himself Fullness of freedom, that forthwith he may come, Into the blessings of the Bidder of spirits For this is the rest from all our wrestling, The hopeful haven for the high vessels Of the minds of us men, mild harbour bright. This is the only haven we ever shall have After the tossing of troublous billows, After each tempest, truly peaceful. This is the sanctuary, the sole comfort Of all weary mortals, when they are over, Our worldly troubles; 'tis the pleasant prize That shall be ours to own after these hardships. But well do I think, no treasure golden, No jewel of silver, no gem of cunning, No wealth of this world will ever illumine The eyes of the mind; nor do they amend Their keenness of sight so that they spy Bliss unfeigned; but they far more The eyes of the mind of every man Blind in his breast than make them brighter. So each of the things that now on earth In this their life is loved by mankind, Frail and earthly, fleets away. But they be wondrous, the Beauty and Brightness That give brightness and beauty to each, And possess ever after power over all. It is not the will nor the wish of the Ruler That our souls should perish, but He prefers With light to fill them, life's Controller. If any creature therefore with his eyes undimmed, The glance of his spirit, may ever gaze on The clear brightness of the heavenly beam, Then will he say that the sun's shining Is merely darkness to the mind of each man, If it be measured with the mighty light Of God Almighty; for every spirit 'Tis ceaseless, eternal, for the souls of the blest. XXII He that desires the Right in due measure, In its inner nature anxious to track, And know it fully so that none be able To drive it out, nor anything earthly Have power to hinder: first him behoves In his own soul to seek what he earlier During a season sought from without. Then let him bring it forth from his bosom, And leave behind, as long as he may, Every sorrow that serves for nought; And let him muster with might and with main Each thought within him to that end only. Let him say to his mind, that it may find Within itself only all that it now Oftenest seeks ever outside, Every goodness. Then he gets to know Things evil and idle, all that he had, Hid in his bosom so long before, Even as clearly as he can the sun Behold with the eyes of this present body And he moreover his mind perceives Lighter and brighter than is the beaming Of the sun in summer, when the sky's jewel, Sheer orb of heaven, shines brightest. So neither the sins nor laziness of the body, Nor its foul vices, are fully able To wrest from the mind its righteous nature In any mortal. Though that a man By the sins of his body, and by its laziness also, And by vice be assailed for many a season, And though that his mind be grievously marred With the foul curse of careless folly, And a fog of error float before The dreary spirit of the sons of men, So that it cannot shine at all so clearly As it would do if it were able, Yet there remains ever retained Some seed of the truth in the soul of man, So long as united it lives with body. This corn of seed is ever quickened By means of inquiry, and afterwards also With good teaching, if it is to grow. How may any man make out an answer To anything asked, by aid of reason, Though others ask him after it righteously, Closely inquiring, if he contains In his own mind neither much nor little Of righteousness in him nor anything of reason? Yet no man lives that is so lacking, So utterly robbed and void of reason, That he is unable the answer to find Locked in his breast if others beg him. For this is true, the proverb that our Plato, The ancient sage, once said unto us: 'Each man,' he said, 'that is unmindful, Of righteousness careless, him I counsel Again to turn him towards his thoughts, His mind's fancy; then will he not fail In his own bosom, buried deeply, To find in his spirit righteousness sealed, Amid the turmoil which ever troubles His mind daily most and sorest, And the heavy laziness that hampers his body, And the heavy cares that quell a man In mind and in spirit at every season.' XXIII Oh! truly blessed a man would be Here in all things, had he the power to see The bright and spotless heavenly stream, That grand fountain of every good; And if from himself he might hurl away The dark mist, his spirit's darkness. Yet now it behoves, God us helping, With tales of fancy, fables ancient, To amend your mind, that you more surely May by straight course come to heaven, To that spot eternal where our souls have rest. XXIV I have feather-wings fleeter than a bird's, With which I may fly far from the earth Over the high roof of the heaven above us; But oh! that I might your mind furnish, Your inmost wit, with these my wings, Until you might on this world of mortals, On all that there lives, look down easily! Then you might mount on pinions Straight over heaven, soaring upwards Wind through the clouds, and then witness All from above. You could also fly Over the fire that long has fared, Many a year, mid air and heaven, Even as the Father at first appointed. Then could you after the course follow That the sun takes between the lights of heaven, And onward speeding reach the sphere Far up aloft; then in order That star all cold, alone in station, Which is the highest of heavenly bodies, By sea-dwellers beneath the sky Saturn called; cold is that star, Wholly ice-bound, and highest wanders Over all others up in heaven. Yes, even then, when you have passed High over Saturn, you may still journey, And then will soon be above the sphere That swiftly turns; and if straight you go, Leaving behind you the highest heaven, Then may you at last in the true Light Have your portion, whence the sole Prince Above the firmament far sway holds, And also beneath, over every creature, Guiding the world. A wise King He; 'Tis He that controls through all countries All other kings over the world. He with His bridle has firmly bound The whole compass of heaven and earth; With His guiding reins well He governs And ever steers with mighty strength The hastening car of earth and heaven. He is the only Judge, in justice steadfast, God unchanging, fair and glorious. If you should reach by the right way Up to that region, that right noble place, Though for a time you have it forgotten, Yet if again ever you thither arrive, Then will you call out and quickly say: 'This, this only is mine own true home, My land and country; from here am I come, Here was created, by the Craftsman's might. From here will I never take me away, But pleasantly here it is my purpose, The Father willing, firmly to stand.' If to you after it shall ever befall That you will, or may to this murky world Come once more, you will quickly see That all the unrighteous rulers of earth, And all the mighty, those men so haughty That most oppress this weary people, Are ever themselves utterly wretched, In all things feeble, failing in might, Even these proud ones that this poor folk Now for a season so sorely dreads. XXV Hear now a tale told of the proud ones, The kings unrighteous that rule over the earth, That shine among us with wondrous sheen In many various beautiful vestures, On high seats raised even to the roof, Decked with gold, adorned with jewels, On all sides hemmed with a countless host Of thanes and fighters. These too are furnished With battle harness of wondrous brightness, With gleaming brands stoutly belted, And with high state they serve the other, Obedient all; and then, forth bursting To every quarter, crush with force All other nations that neighbouring dwell; And their lord heeds, who the host rules, Friend nor foeman, life nor fortune, But ruthless ever rushes on all men Unto a mad hound most has he likeness, Too high uplifted within his heart, For the dominion that each of his darlings, His friends so trusty, aids to found. If a man, however, might pluck from the tyrant Each several garments of the royal garb, And from him sever the various servants, And likewise the power that once he possessed, Then might you see that he is most like To one of the men that now most busily Press about him in painful service; He might well be worse, but I think no better. If such an one ever, all unwitting, Happened to lose by lack of fortune State and raiment and ready service, And the power also which we have pictured: If any of such things he sees no longer, I know he will fancy that he has fallen Deep in a dungeon, or himself he deems In shackles fastened. This I may show, That from over-measure in any matter, In food or in dress, or in wine-drinking, Or in sweetmeats, sorest waxes The mighty frenzy of fierce desire That clouds sore the inmost spirit Of every mortal. Thence come most often Evil pride of heart and profitless strife. When rage is burning, within their bosoms Their hearts are whelmed with waves enormous Of seething passion, and soon thereafter Are gripped in turn with grievous gloom, Firmly caught. Anon there comes Hope deceitful with hateful lying Crying vengeance, for anger craves More and more; then makes promise The heart so reckless, of all right heedless. I told you before in this same book That somewhat of good by each single member Of the wide creation is ever craved, By the natural power that it possesses. The unrighteous Kings that rule the earth To no good ever can give an issue, By reason of the sin whereof I have spoken Nor is that a marvel, for they ever are minded Themselves to abase, and bow to the power Of each of the evils named already. Needs then straitly they must submit Unto the bondage of those masters, The chieftains by them already chosen. Yet is this worse, that a man will not Resist this mastery even for a moment. If he were ready to begin to wrestle And the war thereafter to wage for ever, Then were he never worthy of blame Even if beaten, bested at last. XXVI I can from fables feigned of yore Tell you a story touching nearly This same matter whereof we speak. In times long past once it betided That prince Aulixes had possession Under the Caesar of kingdoms twain. He was the ruler of the realm of Thracia, And Retia also ruled as chieftain; And his liege lord's name, known to the nations Was Agamemnon, ruler of all The Greekish kingdom. It was common rumour That in those times the Trojan war Was fought under heaven. That hard fighter, The Greekish monarch, marched to the field; Aulixes likewise led five-score ships Across the sea-stream, and there sat down Full ten winters. Then the time came When they had won the realm by war, And the Greekish prince had dearly purchased The town of Troy with his true comrades. Then when to Aulixes leave was given, The Thracian chieftain, thence to journey, He left behind him of his horned barks Nine and ninety; none of them thence, Of these sea-horses, save only one, He ferried over ocean, a foam-washed galley With threefold oar-bank. Then came cold weather, Raging storm-wind; the dun waves roaring Dashed together, far out driving Into the Wendelsea the warrior crew, Upon the island where Apollo's daughter Had been dwelling for many a day. This same Apollo was of princely race, Son of Jove. This Jove was a king Who to great and little lying feigned, To every goodman, that he was a god Most high and holy. Thus this hero The silly people pleased with error, Till countless folk his feigning trusted For he was rightly the realm's protector, Of royal birth. 'Tis known abroad That in those days each folk deemed Its sovereign head the Highest God, And gave him honour as King of Glory, If to be ruler he was rightly born. Jove's father also was further a god, And the sea-dwellers Saturn named him, The sons of men. Soon folk named Each in turn God eternal. Men say there was also Apollo's daughter, Well descended, to witless mortals A goddess seeming, skilled in magic, In witchcraft dealing and in the delusions, More than all men, of many a nation. She was a king's daughter, Circe was called Among the multitude, and she ruled men Upon the island to which Aulixes Chief of Thracia had chanced to come, In his ship sailing. Soon was it known To all the troop that tarried there with her, The prince's coming. Then Circe herself Loved beyond measure that lord of seamen, And in the same way with all his soul Such love for her he felt in his heart That to his country no care to return Had power in his mind like that of the maiden; But he went on dwelling with the woman thereafter. So long remained that none of his men, His servants sturdy, would stay with him longer. But after their hardships for home were longing, And purposed to leave their dear lord behind. Now folk began to make a fable, How that this woman with her witchcraft Changed men's bodies, and with baleful arts Caused them to take, the king's true servants, The bodies of beasts, and bound them afterwards, And fastened many in fetters also. Some became wolves and no word could utter. But from time to time took to howling; Some were wild boars, and broke into grunting When they their sorrow sought to lament; Those that were lions let forth in anger A dreadful roar when they desired To hail each other. These hapless mortals, Both old and young, yes all, were turned To some wild beast, such as before During his life-days each most was like All save the king, the queen's beloved. Nought would they taste, any one of them, Of meat of men, but more they longed for What beasts supports, as was not seemly. No more was left them of men's likeness, Of the earth-dwellers, save only reason. Each of them kept his own mind, But this with sorrow was sorely beset For the sad troubles that had assailed it. Now the foolish ones that in this witchcraft So long believed, in lying stories, Notwithstanding knew that no one The wit of man nor his mind can change With magic art, though this be able Mortal bodies for many a day In form to worsen. Wonderful is it And mighty, the power that every mind Has over the slight and sluggish body! You may by such examples see most clearly That every cunning and craft of the body Come from the mind in every man, Each single power. It is easy to see That to every man more harm brings Wickedness of mind than weakness of body, Of the frail flesh. Let none of the folk Deem it possible that this poor flesh May ever the mind of any mortal Utterly change to its own estate. Nay, 'tis the faults, each mind's failings, And the inward purpose prompting each man, That bend the body to their bidding. XXVII Why should you harass with wicked hatred Your spirits weary, as the waves of ocean Set a-tossing the ice-cold sea, Urged by the blast? Why do you blame, Your fate reproach that she has no power? Why can you not bide the bitter coming Of common death by God created When he is drawing each day towards you? Can you not perceive that he is ever pursuing Each thing begotten, of earthly bearing, Beasts and birds? Death also is busy After mankind, all over this earth, The dreadful huntsman, holding the chase; Nor will he truly the trail abandon Before that he catch at last the quarry That he was pursuing. Oh! it is pitiful That borough-dwellers cannot bide him, But luckless mortals like the race of birds Are flying onward fain to meet him, Or as beasts of the forest that are ever fighting, Each one seeking to slay the other. But it is wicked for any creature That towards another in his inmost temper He should hatred bear, like bird or beast But most right it were that every mortal To others should render their due reward, To all earth-dwellers, whatever they earn By their life-works. He should love, that is, All true men most tenderly, And spare the wicked, as we have said. The man himself he must love in mind, And all his vices view with hatred, And cut them away as best he can. XXVIII What man that learning on earth lacks Does marvel not at the moving clouds, The swift heavens, the stars' wheeling, How never ceasing they spin around The mass of earth? Which of mankind No wonder shows at these shining bodies, How that some of them a lesser space Of course revolve, and others run In longer circle? One of these lights Is by world-men the Waggon Shafts called. This a shorter course and journey keeps, A smaller circle than other stars, For it turns about the heavenly axle At the northern end, nigh revolving. On this same axle all is circling, The spacious heavens are swiftly speeding, Southward rushing, swift, untiring. What earthly mortal does not marvel, Save the wise ones who knew before, That many stars a motion wider Have in the heavens, some, however, Run more straitly round the axle's end, And move more widely when round its middle They urge their race? One of these orbs Is Saturn called; in some thirty winters He girdles round this globe of earth. Boötes also brightly shines, Another star that to his station In years as many moves round, Even to the place from which he parted. What mortal is there that marvels not How that some stars sink in ocean, Under the sea-waves, as men do suppose? Some also deem that the sun does so; But none the less false is this their fancy, For neither at even nor in early morning Is he nearer the ocean than at high noon. Yet do men deem that he dives to ocean, Into the sea, when he sinks to setting. Who in the world wonders not At the full moon, when in a moment She is robbed of her beauty beneath the clouds, With darkness covered? What mortal cannot See with wonder the ways of all stars, Why in bright weather they beam not forth Before the sun, when such is their custom In the middle of night before the moon, When clear is heaven? How many a man, At all such things sorely wonders, But marvels not that men and beasts, Every creature, keep up anger Great and useless, each against other, Never ceasing? It is a strange thing That men do not marvel how often amid the clouds The thunder sounds, then for a space Lies silent; and likewise how Waves and sea-shore are warring ever, The wind and billows. Who wonders at this, Or at another thing also, why ice is able To come from water? When the sun shines Hot in splendour, soon it hastens, The wondrous ice-pool, once more to its kind, Even to water. No wonder seems To any of mortals what he may see Day by day; but the crazy people What they see but seldom sooner marvel, Though to the minds of men of wisdom It seem much less matter of wonder. To unsteadfast men it ever seems No part of the ancient early creation, What they see seldom; but still they think, World-men hold that by chance it happens, Newly befalls, if to any before It has not appeared a pity 'tis so! But if any of them ever becomes So lusting for knowledge that he begins to learn Wise ways many, and the Warden of Life From his mind clears the mountain of folly That has buried it and abode with it long Then I know well that lie will not marvel At many a thing that now to mankind A sign and a wonder everywhere seems. XXIX If you desire deeply to learn The lofty power of the world's Lord With clear understanding, consider diligently The stars of heaven, how they ever stand In lasting peace; long have they done so, Even as the Prince of Glory has prepared them At their first forming, so that the fiery one, The sun, may not approach the cold one's path, The moon's marches. Lo! the mighty orbs Cross not the one the course of the other Until it has fleeted far on its way. Nor will that star ever seek in its journey The west of the heavens, to which wise men give The name of Ursa. All other stars After the sun sink with the heavens Below earth's base; alone he bides. It is no wonder; he is wondrously near The higher axle-end of the heavenly sphere. Then brightly beams one star beyond others That soars in the east, the sun preceding; Him the sons of men star of the morning Call under heaven; he heralds day To men in the boroughs; then he brings The glorious sun, the same day for all. Fair and shining is the forerunner, East up-leaping the sun he leads; And again after the sun to his setting glides, West under world. When night comes, His name the nations change for another, And then they style him Star of evening. More swift than the sun, once they have set, He speeds past him, that star all noble, Until over again in the east he rises, To men appearing, the sun preceding. Those noble orbs night from day By the Lord's power have fairly parted, Sun and moon, in high peace moving As from the first the Father appointed. You need not fear that these fair ones Will ever be sated with this their service Before doomsday come. Therein He deals, Mankind's Maker, as Him meet seems; For he suffers them not, the Sovran God, To be at the same time on one side of heaven, Lest they ruin the rest of creation. But God Eternal all things guides, The broad creation, in bonds of peace. Dryness sometimes drives out wet; Whiles they mingle, by the Master's craft, Cold and heat. To highest heaven The flame all bright sometimes flies Light through the air, behind it leaving The weight of the earthly, though for a while The cold earth closely within herself kept it Held and hidden by the might of the Holy, By the King's commandment. Each plant comes, Brought forth by earth every year, And the heat of summer for the sons of men. Every year yields and drys Over land's wide surface seed and leaflet. Harvest offers to hands of mortals Store of ripeness then rain and hailstorm And snow too comes, soaking the ground In time of winter, when fierce is weather. For earth receives every seed-grain, And makes it swell every season, And in the spring-time leaves are sprouting. But the kind Master for mankind's children, To all that grows gives nurture, To fruits in the world; brings them forth When He chooses, Chief of heaven, And them discovers to the dwellers on earth, And anon removes, mankind's Saviour. The Highest Good on His high-seat Sole King sits, and this world spacious Does His service; all His subjects Thence He rules with His reins of leading. No marvel is this He is God of multitudes, King and Lord of all that lives, Fount and First Cause of all His creatures, Maker and Worker of this our world, Law and Wisdom for the livers therein. All His creatures upon His errands From here He sends and hither bids. Had He not established each so steady, All His creatures, every one of them, Breaking away had burst asunder, In deadly hate had come to naught; Yes, like foes they had fallen apart, Though one love only all things created In heaven and earth have in common, That such a Leader they serve together, All of them glad that the Father rules. No need for wonder, for no one thing Could ever hope to hold its life Unless all were serving their common Source, With all their might, their glorious Master. XXX In the East Omerus among the Greeks Was in that country in songs most cunning, Of Firgilius also friend and teacher, Of that famed maker, best of masters. Now this Omerus often and often On the sun's splendour spent high praises, His noble powers showed to the people In glee and story, again and again. Yet the sun cannot beam, for all his brightness, Over all creation nor anywhere near it; And even those creatures on which he can shine He cannot illumine with equal light Inside and out. But the Almighty Ruler and Worker of the world's creatures His own work overlooks; All creatures alike He looks over. He is the true Sun, and rightly so; Such in His honour we may sing truly. XXXI You may know, if you will notice, That many creatures of various kinds Fare over earth with unlike motions, With gait and colour quite diverse, And aspects also of endless kinds, Queer and common. Some creep and crawl With all their body bound to the ground; No wings them help on feet they walk not, Nor pace the earth, as was them appointed. Some on two feet fare over the ground, Some are four-footed; some in flight Wing beneath the clouds, Yet each creature Is drooping earthward, stooping downward, On the ground looking, longing for earth, Some need-driven, some through greed. Man only goes of all God's creatures With gait upright, gazing upwards. This is a token that he shall turn His trust and his mind more up than down, To the heavens above, lest he bend his thoughts Like beasts earthward. It is not meet That the mind of a mortal should remain below While his face he holds up to heaven.