Anglo-Saxon. THE GRAVE. FOR thee was a house built For thee was a mould meant Not its depth measured, How long it shall be. Now I bring thee Where thou shalt be; Now I shall measure thee, Thy house is not Thy breast full nigh, So thou shalt in mould Dwell full cold, Dimly and dark. Doorless is that house, And Death hath the key. Loathsome is that earth-house, And grim within to dwell. There thou shalt dwell, And worms shall divide thee. Thus thou art laid, Who will come to thee, Who will ever see How that house pleaseth thee; Who will ever open The door for thee, And descend after thee; For soon thou art loathsome And hateful to see. BEOWULF'S EXPEDITION TO HEORT. THUS then, much care-worn, The son of Healfden Sorrowed evermore, Nor might the prudent hero His woes avert. The war was too hard, Good among the Goths, He was of mankind In might the strongest, At that day Of this life, Noble and stalwarth. He bade him a sea-ship, The mighty monarch, Straight made ready, They excited their souls, Of those that keenest He might find, Some fifteen men. The sea-wood sought he. The land-marks, And first went forth. The ship was on the waves, Boat under the cliffs. The barons ready To the prow mounted. The streams they whirled The sea against the sands. The men shoved off, Men on their willing way, The bounded wood. Then went over the sea-waves, Hurried by the wind, The ship with foamy neck, Most like a sea-fowl, Till about one hour The land saw, The shore-cliffs shining, And broad sea-noses. Of the Earl at an end. Then up speedily On the land went, Their mail-sarks shook, Their war-weeds. God thanked they, That to them the sea-journey Easy had been. Then from the wall beheld The warden of the Scyldings, He who the sea-cliffs Had in his keeping, Bear o'er the balks The war-weapons speedily. Before the host he shook His warden's staff in hand In measured words demanded: "What men are ye War-gear wearing, Host in harness, Who thus the brown keel Over the water-street Leading come Hither over the sea? I these boundaries As shore-warden hold; That in the land of the Danes Nothing loathsome With a ship-crew Scathe us might. . . Ne'er saw I mightier Earl upon earth Than is your own, Not seldom this warrior Is in weapons distinguished; Your origin know, Ere ye forth As false spies Into the land of the Danes Farther fare. Now, ye dwellers afar off! Ye sailors of the sea! Listen to my To make known Whence your coming may be." THE SOUL'S COMPLAINT AGAINST THE BODY. MUCH it behoveth Each one of mortals, That he his soul's journey In himself ponder, How deep it may be. When Death cometh, The bonds he breaketh By which united Were body and soul. Long it is thenceforth Ere the soul taketh Its woe or its weal; The soul shall come The soul, to find The body That it erst dwelt in ;- Unless ere that worketh |