The Departing Soul's Address to the Body: A Fragment of a Semi-Saxon Poem: Discovered Among the Archives of Worcester Cathedral
Religion
The Departing Soul's Address to the Body: A Fragment of a Semi-Saxon Poem: Discovered Among the Archives of Worcester Cathedral
Poetry
by which thou were
alese_d_ from helle wite. redeemed from pains of hell;
and mid his reade blode. and with his red blood,
that he ȝeat on rode. that he shed on the cross,
the thu we_ren_ ifreoed. 145 by which thou wert freed
to farene into heouene. to enter into heaven.
ac thu fenge to theowdome. But thou took to thraldom
thurh thæs de_ofles_ lore. through the devil's lore.
Bi the hit is iseid. Concerning thee it is said
and soth hit is on boken. 150 in books, and true it is:
_Qui custodiat divitias._ _Qui custodiat divitias,_
_Ser_vus _est divitiis._ _Servus est divitiis._
Thu were theow. Thou wert slave
thines weolan. to thy wealth,
noldest thu nouht. 155 nor wouldst thou ought
thærof d_ælen_. thereof distribute
for Drihtenes willæn. for God's pleasure;
ac æfre thu grædiliche, but thou ever greedily
gæderdest the more. didst gather the more.
lu_ther_liche eart thu forloren. 160 Miserably art thou separated
from al that thu lufedest. from all that thou lovedst,
and ic scal wræcche soule. and I, wretched soul, shall
_ece_ we nu driæn. now suffer everlasting woe.
eart thu nu loth and unwurth. Thou art now loathsome and contemptible
alle thine freonden. 165 to all thy friends.
nu ha_m thun_cheth alto long. Now they think it all too long
that thu ham neih list. that thou liest nigh them,
ær thu beo ibrouht. ere thou be brought
thær thu be_grafen_ scalt. where thou shalt be buried
on deope sæthe. 170 in a deep pit,
on durelease huse. in a doorless house,
thær wurmes wældeth. where worms possess
al_le that_ wurthest was. all that was most honoured
fuweles quale holde. of the foul dead carcase,
the thu icwemedest ær. 175 that thou formerly delightedst
mid alre _kunde_ swetnesse. with all kind of sweetness,
theo thu swuthe lufedest. that thou much didst love.
theo swetnesse is nu al agon. The sweetness is now all gone,
that b_ittere_ the bith fornon. the bitter is thee near,
that bittere ilæsteth æffre. 180 that bitter lasteth ever,
that swete ne cumeth the _næffre_. that sweet cometh to thee never.
* * * * * * * * * *
_thun_cheth that thu hire bi_lei_ben. thinketh that thou here remain.
ȝet sæith theo sowle. Yet saith the soul
soriliche to then licame. 185 sadly to the body:
sæ _ne thea_rft thu on stirope. see, thou canst not on stirrup
stonden mid fotan.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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