William of Malmesbury's Chronicle of the Kings of England: From the earliest period to the reign of King StephenWilliam, of Malmesbury
History
William of Malmesbury's Chronicle of the Kings of England: From the earliest period to the reign of King Stephen
William, of Malmesbury
Great Britain -- History -- Norman period, 1066-1154; Great Britain -- History -- To 1066; Middle Ages -- Sources
Fame, which the world allows his due,
Shall Berengar, when dead, pursue:
Whom, plac’d on faith’s exalted height
The fifth day ravish’d with fell spite:
Sad was that day, and fatal too,
Where grief and loss united grew,
Wherein the church’s hope and pride,
The law, with its supporter, died.
What sages taught, or poets sung
Bow’d to his wit, and honey’d tongue.
Then holier wisdom’s path he trod,
And fill’d his heart and lips with God.
His soul, his voice, his action prov’d
The great Creator’s praise he lov’d,
So good, so wise, his growing fame
Shall soar above the greatest name:
Whose rank preserv’d his honours gain’d,
Preferr’d the poor to rich: maintain’d
The sternest justice. Wealth’s wide power
Ne’er gave to sloth, or waste, an hour,
Nor could repeated honours, high,
Seduce him from humility;
Who ne’er on money set his mind,
But griev’d he could no object find
Where he might give: and help’d the poor
Till poverty assail’d his door.
His life by nature’s laws to guide,
His mind from vice, his lips from pride,
Still was his care: to false, the true
Prefer, and nothing senseless do:
Evil to none, but good impart,
And banish lucre, hand and heart.
Whose dress was coarse, and temperance just
Awaited appetite’s keen gust:
Was chastity’s perpetual guest,
Nor let rank lust disturb his rest.
When nature form’d him, “See,” said she,
“While others fade, one born for me.”
Ere justice sought her place of rest
On high, he lock’d her in his breast.
A saint from boyhood, whose great name
Surpasses his exceeding fame,
Which, though the wide world it may fill,
Shall never reach his merit still.
Pious and grave, so humble yet,
That envy ne’er could him beset;
For envy weeps, whom still before
She hated, prone now to adore;
First for his life, but now his fate
She moans, laments his frail estate.
Man truly wise and truly blest!
Thy soul and body both at rest,
May I, when dead, abide with you,
And share the self-same portion too.
You may perceive in these verses, that the bishop exceeded the just
measure of praise; but eloquence is apt to recommend itself in such
wise; thus a brilliant style proceeds in graceful strain; thus
“Bewitching eloquence sheds purple flowers.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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