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VENERABLE BEDE. DEATH SONG

Before the need journey

No one is ever

In thought more wisr

That he hath need

To consider

Ere his going hence

What to his soul

Of Good or of Evil

After death day

Doomed to be

CAEDMON. HOLY ROOD

Now must we praise

The maker`s might

The work of the glorious father

Eternal Lord

Ye 1st shaped Heaven for root

Then mid-earth

Eternal lord

For men and earth

heaven kingdom`s warden

and his mind`s thought

how he of every wonder

formed the beginning

for earth`s children holy Shaper,

mankind`s warden,

afterwards produced

Lord Almighty

CAEDMON. THE HYMN

Methought I saw

A marvelous tree

In air uplifted

With light rays mantling

Of beams the brightest

All that beacon was

Flooded with gold

Might I see

Of the grim ones the ancient striffle

That at first began

To trickle from its right side

the bright rays

shadow over came

wan under clouds

wept all creation

bewalled the slaughter of the King

Christ was on the cross

CYNEWULF. THE DREAM OF THE ROOD.

 Lo! I will tell of the best of dreams,

That came to me dreaming in the midst of night,

When living men had sought their rest

It seemed that I saw that noblest of trees

Aloft lifter wound with lights

Brightest of wood; at that beacon

Was flooded with gold and gems stood

Fair on the earth beneath there were five more

upon the crossbeams. 

BEOWULF

  1. Then came over the moon,

Under the hiils of mist,

Grendel Striding,

God`s wrath he bore

  1. He bit the body

Drank the blood in streams

Piece by piece he swallowed it:

Soon he had

The lifeless body

All consumed,

Feet and hands

  1. So mourned

The Gothic people

Their lord`s fall,

His hearth (очаг) companions

Said that he was,

Of all the kings of the world,

The mildest of men,

And the greatest

And mostly friendly to his people,

And mostly desirous of their love.

CUCKOO SONG

Sumer is a-comen in,

Loudly sing cuckoo!

Groweth seed and bloweth mead,

And springeth wood anew.

Sing cuckoo!

Loweth after calf the cow,

Bleateth after lamb the owe,

Buck doth gambol, bullock amble,

Merry sing Cuckoo!

Cuckoo, Cuckoo! Well singest thou,

Cuckoo! Nor cease thou ever now!

Sing Cuckoo now, sing Cuckoo, sing

Cuckoo, sing Cuckoo now.

THE OWL AND THE NIGHTINGALE

Owl’s answer:

And yet thou sayest another thing

And fellest me that I can’t sing

That all my song is mourning drear

A fearsome sound for man to hear

That’s not sooth my voice is true

And fine & loud sonorous too

Thou thinkest ugly every note

Unlike the thinness of thy throat

My voice is bold & not forlorn

It soundeth like a mighty horn

Better I sing than thou at least

Thou chatterest like an Irish priest…

WILLIAM LANGLAND. PIER PLOWMAN

Prologue

In a summer season, when soft was the sun,

In rough cloth I robed me, as I a shepherd were,

In habit like a hermit in his works unholy,

And through the wide world I went, wonders to hear.

But on a May morning,

A marvel befel me

I had wandered me weary,

On a broad bank

And as I lay and leaned

I slumbered in a sleeping,

And I dreamed marvellously.

JOHN MILTON. PARADISE LOST

Of Man’s First Disobedience, and the Fruit

Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal taste

Brought Death into the World, and all our woe,

With loss of Eden, till one greater Man

Restore us, and regain the blissful

Seat, Sing Heav’nly Muse, that on the secret top

Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire

That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen

Seed, In the Beginning how the Heav’ns and Earth

Rose out of Chaos: Or if Sion Hill

Delight thee more, and Siloa’s Brook that flow’d

Fast by the Oracle of God; I thence

Invoke thy aid to my advent’rous Song,

That with no middle flight intends to soar

Above th’ Aonian Mount, while it pursues

Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhyme.

(I.1–26)

his ponderous shield

Ethereal temper, massy, large and round,

Behind him cast; the broad circumference

Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb

Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views [i.e., Galileo]

At evening from the top of Fesole,

Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands,

Rivers or mountains in her spotty globe. Book 1 (ll. 283-330)

SHAKESPEAR. THE TWELFTH NIGHT

Feste. [Sings]  When that I was and a little tiny boy,  With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, 2605 A foolish thing was but a toy,  For the rain it raineth every day.  But when I came to man's estate,  With hey, ho, &c.  'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, 2610 For the rain, &c.  But when I came, alas! to wive,  With hey, ho, &c.  By swaggering could I never thrive,  For the rain, &c. 2615 But when I came unto my beds,  With hey, ho, &c.  With toss-pots still had drunken heads,  For the rain, &c.  A great while ago the world begun, 2620 With hey, ho, &c.  But that's all one, our play is done,  And we'll strive to please you every day.