Select Translations from Old English Poetry

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Albert Stanburrough Cook, Chauncey Brewster Tinker
Ginn, 1926 - Anglo-Saxon poetry - 195 pages
 

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Page 28 - Also the brethren, King and Atheling, Each in his glory, Went to his own in his own West-Saxonland, Glad of the war. xiv Many a carcase they left to be carrion, Many a livid one, many a sallow-skin...
Page 26 - Mighty the Mercian, Hard was his hand-play, Sparing not any of Those that with Anlaf, Warriors over the Weltering waters Borne in the bark's-bosom, Drew to this island — 50 Doom'd to the death.
Page 26 - Slender reason had He to be glad of The clash of the war-glaive — Traitor and trickster And spurner of treaties — He nor had Anlaf With armies so broken A reason for bragging That they had the...
Page 180 - ... the departure of the people of Israel from the land of Egypt and their entry into the land of promise; and...
Page 27 - In perils of battle On places of slaughter — The struggle of standards, The rush of the javelins, The crash of the charges, The wielding of weapons — The play that they played with The children of Edward.
Page 108 - Wherefore, he said, shall I toil :No need have I of master. I can work With my own hands great marvels, and have power To build a throne more worthy of a God, Higher in heaven. Why shall I for His smile Serve Him, bend to Him thus in vassalage ': I may be God as He.
Page 24 - Theirs was a greatness Got from their Grandsires Theirs that so often in Strife with their enemies Struck for their hoards and their hearths and their homes.
Page 107 - The Holy Father by his strength of hand, That they whom He well trusted should serve Him And work His will. For that the holy God Gave intellect, and shaped them with His hands. In happiness He placed them, and to one He added prevalence and might of thought, Sway over much, next highest to Himself In Heaven's realm. Him He had wrought so bright That pure as starlight was in heaven the form Which God, the Lord of hosts, had given him.
Page 42 - I CAN sing of myself a true song, of my voyages telling, How oft through laborious days, through the wearisome hours I have suffered: have borne tribulations; explored in my ship, Mid the terrible rolling of waves, habitations of sorrow. Benumbed by the cold, oft the comfortless night-watch hath held me At the prow of my craft as it tossed about under the cliffs. My feet were imprisoned with frost, were fettered with ice-chains, Yet hotly were wailing the querulous sighs round my heart; And hunger...
Page 104 - Their own well-being they would bear no more, But cast themselves out of the love of God. Great in Presumption against the Most High They would divide the radiant throng far spread, The resting-place of glory. Even there Pain came to them, Envy and Pride began There first to weave ill counsel and to stir The minds of angels. Then, athirst for strife, He said that northward * he would own in heaven A home and a high Throne. Then God was wroth, And for the host He had made glorious, For those pledge-breakers,...

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