piątek, 23 listopada 2012

Middle English ep. 3: The Canterbury Tales




The Canterbury Tales is a collection of stories written in Middle English by Geoffrey Chaucer at the end of the 14th century. The tales (mostly written in verse although some are in prose) are presented as part of a story-telling contest by a group of pilgrims as they travel together on a journey from Southwark to the shrine of Saint Thomas Becket at Canterbury  Catherdal. The prize for this contest is a free meal at the Tabard Inn at Southwark on their return.
At the Tabard Inn, a tavern in Southwark, near London, the narrator joins a company of twenty-nine pilgrims. The pilgrims, like the narrator, are traveling to the shrine of the martyr Saint Thomas Becket in Canterbury. The narrator gives a descriptive account of twenty-seven of these pilgrims.

The Knight’s Tale
Theseus, duke of Athens, imprisons Arcite and Palamon, two knights from Thebes (another city in ancient Greece). From their prison, the knights see and fall in love with Theseus’s sister-in-law, Emelye. Through the intervention of a friend, Arcite is freed, but he is banished from Athens. He returns in disguise and becomes a page in Emelye’s chamber. Palamon escapes from prison, and the two meet and fight over Emelye. Theseus apprehends them and arranges a tournament between the two knights and their allies, with Emelye as the prize. Arcite wins, but he is accidentally thrown from his horse and dies. Palamon then marries Emelye.
The Miller’s Tale
The Host asks the Monk to tell the next tale, but the drunken Miller interrupts and insists that his tale should be the next. He tells the story of an impoverished student named Nicholas, who persuades his landlord’s sexy young wife, Alisoun, to spend the night with him. He convinces his landlord, a carpenter named John, that the second flood is coming, and tricks him into spending the night in a tub hanging from the ceiling of his barn. Absolon, a young parish clerk who is also in love with Alisoun, appears outside the window of the room where Nicholas and Alisoun lie together. When Absolon begs Alisoun for a kiss, she sticks her rear end out the window in the dark and lets him kiss it. Absolon runs and gets a red-hot poker, returns to the window, and asks for another kiss; when Nicholas sticks his bottom out the window and farts, Absolon brands him on the buttocks. Nicholas’s cries for water make the carpenter think that the flood has come, so the carpenter cuts the rope connecting his tub to the ceiling, falls down, and breaks his arm.
·         Romance
The romance, a tale about knights and ladies incorporating courtly love themes, was a popular literary genre in fourteenth-century literature. The genre included tales of knights rescuing maidens, embarking on quests, and forming bonds with other knights and rulers (kings and queens). In particular, the romances about King Arthur, his queen, Guinevere, and his society of “knights of the round table” were very popular in England. In The Canterbury Tales, the Knight’s Tale incorporates romantic elements in an ancient classical setting, which is a somewhat unusual time and place to set a romance.

·         Fabliaux
Fabliaux were comical and often grotesque stories in which the characters most often succeed by means of their sharp wits. Such stories were popular in France and Italy in the fourteenth century. Frequently, the plot turns or climaxes around the most grotesque feature in the story, usually a bodily noise or function. The Miller’s Tale is a prime experiment with this motif:
 
Springtime
The Canterbury Tales opens in April, at the height of spring. The birds are chirping, the flowers blossoming, and people long in their hearts to go on pilgrimages, which combine travel, vacation, and spiritual renewal. The springtime symbolizes rebirth and fresh beginnings, and is thus appropriate for the beginning of Chaucer’s text. Springtime also evokes erotic love.

Frame story – main story – the pilgimage in which other stories are contained.

The way of characters drawing: minutely described.
Irony – says one thing but means another
Satire ridicules separate characters and their group.
The pilgrims are equal in the view of god however the pilgrimage is the only way they can meet.

wtorek, 6 listopada 2012

Middle English Literature ep. 2: Sir Gawain and the Green Knight



The poem opens with a mythological account of Britain's founding. After the fall of Troy, we are told, various heroes left to build cities. One of them was Brutus who founded Britain. The author introduces Britain's greatest leader, the legendary King Arthur.
The story begins at Christmastime at King Arthur's court in Camelot. The knights of the Round Table join Arthur in the holiday celebrations.
When the evening's feast is about to be served, Arthur introduces a new game: he refuses to eat his dinner until he has heard a marvelous story.
While the lords and ladies feast, with Arthur's nephew Gawain and Guinevere sitting together in the place of privilege at the high table, Arthur continues to wait for his story.
As if in answer to Arthur's request, an unknown knight suddenly enters the hall on horseback. The gigantic knight has a beautiful face and figure. Every piece of his elaborate costume is green. His horse is huge and green.
The Green Knight refuses to tell a story, but claims he came in peace.
Instead, he wants to play a game in which someone will strike him with his own axe, on the understanding that he gets to return the blow in exactly a year and a day.
Arthur blushes and steps forth defend his court, but just as he begins to swing the giant axe at the Green Knight, Gawain stands up and requests that he be allowed to take the challenge himself. The king agree. Gawain lifts the axe, and in one stroke he severs the Green Knight's head. Blood spurts from the wound, and the head rolls around the room.
However, the Green Knight does not fall from his horse. He reaches down, picks up the head, and holds it before him, pointing it toward the high table. The head speaks, reiterating the terms of Gawain's promise. The Green Knight rides out of the hall.

Part 2
In late autumn, on the Day of All Saints, the knights of Camelot prepare to send a mournful Gawain off on his quest for the Green Chapel.
Worried but resigned, Gawain calls for his armor, which the poet describes in great detail. After dressing, Gawain says goodbye to his friends and leaves the court.
He encounters various foes—wolves and dragons, bulls and bears, boars and giants—but always prevails over his enemies. He sleeps in his armor and has frequent nightmares. As the winter grows colder, he nearly freezes to death.
Finally, on Christmas Eve, the desperate Gawain prays to the Virgin Mary that he might find a place to attend Christmas Mass. He repents his sins, crosses himself three times, and, when he looks up, he sees a beautiful castle. Surrounded by a green park.
full of thanks to God for saving him, approaches the drawbridge. Gawain salutes, and a guardian allows him to enter.
The lord appears to be middle-aged, with a thick, gray-black beard and solid, sturdy legs. Though the host's fiery face and stocky figure make him appear fierce, his speech reveals him to be gracious and gentle. The lord takes Gawain to a rich chamber, where he feeds Gawain and introduces Gawain to two women. The host's wife is young, beautiful, and elegantly dressed, her firm neck and bosom exposed. The other, an old woman, is wrinkled, stocky, hairy, black-browed, and covered entirely in clothing
Christmas morning and the two days following it pass in a similar manner, but Gawain begins to feel the weight of his quest pressing on him. With only three days remaining before his engagement with the Green Knight, Gawain refuses his host's offer of a longer stay, explaining that he must search for the Green Chapel or else be judged a failure. The host tells Gawain he can send him to the Green Chapel easily—it is only two miles away. Gawain thanks the host and accepts the invitation to stay the three more days.
The host proposes a game of sorts: during the day, he wants Gawain to stay at court and linger in bed and around the castle, spending time with the two ladies. Meanwhile, the host will go out hunting with his men. At the end of each of the three days, the two men will exchange whatever they have won. Happy to play along, Gawain accepts.
Gawain lingers in bed until daybreak.

While still half asleep, he hears the door open quietly, he sees the host's wife creeping toward his bed. Gawain lies back down, pretending to be asleep. the lady climbs inside the bed curtains and sits beside Gawain. Gawain stretches and pretends to wake up. 
the lady tells Gawain that she would have chosen him for her husband if she could have. Gawain responds that her own husband is the better man. Until mid-morning, the lady continues to lavish Gawain with admiration.
When the lady gets up to leave, she laughs and then accuses her captive knight of not being the real Gawain. Alarmed and worried that he has failed in his courtesy, Gawain asks her to explain what she means. She responds that the real Gawain would never let a lady leave his chamber without taking a kiss. Gawain allows one kiss, and then the lady leaves. He dresses immediately and goes to hear Mass, then spends the afternoon with the host's wife and the old woman.

Meanwhile, the lord has been hunting deer with his men all day. The host greets Gawain and gives him the venison he won during the hunt that day. Gawain thanks him and in return gives him the kiss he won from the lady. The host jokingly asks where Gawain won such a prize, and Gawain points out that they agreed to exchange winnings, not to tell where or how they were acquired.
The next two days follow a similar pattern. On the second day, the lord hunts a wild boar, risking his life as he wrestles it to the ground and stabs it with his sword. At the castle, the lady continues to teasingly challenge Gawain's reputation, pressuring him into allowing her two kisses. That night, the host brings home the boar's head on a stick and exchanges it with Gawain for the two kisses.

On the third day the host hunts a fox, and Gawain, awakened by the lady from horrible nightmares about the Green Knight, receives three kisses from the lady during the course of their conversation. However, while they banter, the lady asks Gawain for a love token.
Gawain refuses to fulfill her request, claiming he has nothing to give, so the lady offers him a ring, which he also refuses. She then offers him her green girdle, which she claims has magical properties: it possesses the ability to keep the man who wears it safe from death. Tempted by the possibility of protecting his life, Gawain accepts the girdle.

Part 4
Before the sun comes up, he rises and prepares to depart, putting on his armor and ordering servants to saddle his horse. Despite Gawain's anxiety, his armor shines as brightly as it did when he left Camelot. He does not forget to tie the lady's girdle around his waist. The girdle's green color stands out against the red cloth of Gawain's surcoat
Accompanied by a guide, Gawain crosses the drawbridge and rides back out into the wilderness, up to the heights of the neighboring snowy hills. There, the guide turns to Gawain and proposes a solution to his impending problem: if Gawain leaves now without facing the knight, the guide promises not to tell anyone. No one survives an encounter with the Green Knight, the guide informs Gawain, so continuing the quest is the suicide. Gawain thanks the guide for his concern, but he refuses to be a coward. The guide wishes Gawain well and leaves at a breakneck pace, 
He spots a kind of a cave, fringed with tall grass, and realizes it must be the Green Chapel. 
Suddenly certain that the place belongs to the devil, Gawain curses the chapel and is proceeding toward the cave with his lance in hand when he hears the horrifying sound of a weapon being sharpened
Gawain calls out to the lord of the place, stating that he has come to fulfill his agreement. The Green Knight replies, telling Gawain to stay put, and continues to sharpen his weapon. The Green Knight emerges from around a crag, carrying a Danish axe. He welcomes Gawain warmly and compliments him on his punctuality, then tells him he will repay him for his own beheading a year ago.
The Green Knight lifts the axe high and drops it. When the Green Knight sees Gawain flinch he stops his blade, mocking Gawain and questioning his reputation. Gawain tells him he will not flinch again, and the Green Knight lifts the axe a second time. Gawain doesn't flinch as the axe comes down, and the Green Knight holds the blade again, this time congratulating Gawain's courage. He then threatens Gawain, saying that the next blow will strike him. Angry, Gawain tells the knight to hurry up and strike, and the knight lifts his axe one last time. He brings it down hard, but causes Gawain no harm other than a slight cut on his neck. He feinted the first two times, in accordance with their contract on the first two days, when Gawain gave him the gifts he had received from the lady. The nick from the third blow was punishment for Gawain's behavior on the third day, when he failed to tell the truth about the green girdle.
This speech reveals that the Green Knight is the host of the castle where Gawain was staying. He again congratulates Gawain on his bravery, calling him the worthiest of Arthur's knights and excusing his transgression on the third day. Gawain responds by untying the girdle and cursing it, and asking to regain the host's trust if possible.

Gawain thanks the Green Knight and sends his best wishes to the lady and the old woman, then complains about the deceitfulness of women, who have brought about the downfalls of great men such as Adam, Solomon, Samson, and David. He accepts the girdle, though, and asks that the Green Knight tell him his true name. The knight agrees and reveals himself as Bertilak de Hautdesert, servant of Morgan le Faye, who is the old woman in the castle. Le Faye is also Gawain's aunt and Arthur's half sister, as well as Merlin's mistress
On his journey back to Arthur's castle, Gawain's wound heals, but he continues to wear the green girdle on his right shoulder. When he enters the court, he meets a gleeful reception and tells the story of his encounter with Bertilak. He explains that he intends to wear the green girdle forever as a sign of his failure and sin. Arthur and the court try to comfort Gawain, and they decide that they will all wear belts of green silk as a sign of respect and unity.

piątek, 19 października 2012

Middle English Literature ep.1

Middle English Literature refers to the period of time between the Norman conquest and the begining of Tudor dynasty. 1066- 1485.
Historical background:
After the Norman conquest we have new aristocracy: barons closely attached to the king, but there are conflicts between most powerful barons.
There is conflict between the church and the monarchy.
We should associate middle English literature with terms such as: feudalism, courtly love, code of chivalry, knights, this is the time o
As far as literature is concerned these are most important of medieval genres:
Medieval genres
Fabliau: rude, bluff story about sex, cheating, very coarse language.
Fable: fictional stories, written in prose or verse, personified animals are the characters, there is usually a moral lesson.
Hagiography: about lives of holy people, especially biographies of saints.
Sermon: an oration given by clergymen; they address biblical, religious or moral topic
Exemplum: a moral anecdote, they’re usually part of sermons, they’re educational stories.
Romance: high genre in literature
Warlike adventure, quest, crusades against Saracens, characters are in quest of supernatural foes
Love and chivalrous service performed for noble ladies
Complications of personal relations like: false accusation, separation from the families,
Quest for information, magic talismans.

czwartek, 4 października 2012

OLD ENGLISH LITERATURE ep.2



“Beowulf”
1.   Plot overview
The poem opens with the story about Sheild Sheafson  funeral. He was the king of the ancient Danes. He was a foundling but quickly became strong and powerful. After the death he was honored with an elaborate funeral ceremony. His body was put into a boat covered with armor and treasure and cast off to sea.
This is the story from the past. Now Hrothgar  the descendant of Sheild Sheafson is the king of Danes and he’s very successful. He built mead-hall called Heorot where his thanes can gather to  drink, listen to the songs sung by bards or scopes. But the noise they make wakes up Grednel a demon. Every night he comes and killes Danes. After years of fear eventually Beowulf comes to kill the demon. He’s young Getish warrior who is inspired by the challenge and sails to Denmark with a small company of people. Hrothgar accepts Beawulf’s offer and holds a feast in his honor.
Grendel hears the noise and arrives. Beowulf fights with him unarmed to prove he’s more powerful than the demon. Getish warrior tears Grendel’s arm and the monster mortally wounded goes back into his swamp to die.
Danes are overjoyed. Then Grendel’s mother comes to seek for a revenge. Before slinking  away she kills one of the Hrothgar advisors.
To avenge his death, the company travels to the murky swamp, where Beowulf dives into the water and fights Grendel’s mother in her underwater lair.
He kills her with a sword forged for a giant, then, finds  Grendel’s corpse, decapitates it and brings the head as a prize to Hrothgar.
After that Beowulf comes back to Geatland. In time the king of the Geats is killed during the war and Beowulf ascends to the throne of the Geats.
He rules wisely and succesfully for 50 years. During that time Geatland becomes prosperous country. When Beowulf is and old man a a thief disturbs a barrow when the dragon lives. Dragon starts killing the Geats. Beowulf feels that his death is near and he decides to go and kill the great dragon. With the help of Wiglaf he manages to kill the beast but the cost is heavy. Dragon bites Beowulf’s neck and his fiery venom kills the king,
The story ends with Beowulf’s funeral. They burn departed body on huge funeral pyre and bury the king with a massive treasure in a barrow overlooking the sea.
2.   Genere
Beowulf is an epic poem, and here are some features of that genre
·         An invocation – here introduction poet tell a story about glorious past.
·         Frame construction.
·         Deals with heroes, battles, events important for the nation.
·         Narration as well as dialogues.
·         Perfect god like hero or a hero is a descendent of god.
·         Supernatural creatures.
·         Detailed descriptions and long speeches.

czwartek, 27 września 2012

OLD ENGLISH LITERATURE ep.1



OLD ENGLISH LITERATURE

The term OLD ENGLISH  is identical with Anglo-Saxon and it refers to the language, literature and culture of the English before the Norman Conquest (1066).
At first literature was an oral phenomenon sang from poet to poet so it was changing through the centuries. Remember that we’re talking about middle ages now. People couldn’t read or write so they used some techniques to make poems easier to remember
1.   Formal features of Old English Poetry
ALLITERATION – repetition of the same sound. Usually initial consonants of words or stressed syllables.
FORMULAIC LANGUAGE – Anglo-Saxon poets used stock phrases or ready-made formulas which fits in the pattern of a line or a half line.
KENNINGS – ready-made, special forms of compounding, condensed metaphors
Soul slayer – devil
Swan’s road – ocean
Nation’s shield – the king
Treasure giver – lord
Helmet bearer – warrior
Heaven’s jewel – the sun
VARIATION – repetition of the element of the sentence but using different words. Restatement of the concept.
2.   Examples of the poems
THE WANDERER
The wanderer is a thane = warrior =earl. He is sailing alone by the dark blue see in winter. The weather is horrible, the sky is gray, it’s cold and windy.
He’s complaining about his position. He lost his lord and kinsman in the battles. He’s thinking of his native land. He thinks the loneliness is the worst thing in life. He wants to find a new lavish lord a gold giver. At first he’s seeking for an explanation, but then he realizes that the time passes and the fate is pitiless.
“Often the solitary one experiences mercy for himself,
the mercy of the Measurer, although he, troubled in spirit,
over the ocean must long
stir with his hands the rime-cold sea,

travel the paths of exile– Fate is inexorable.”
So said the wanderer, mindful of hardships,
of cruel deadly combats, the fall of dear kinsmen–
“Often alone each morning I must
Bewail my sorrow; there is now none living

to whom I dare tell clearly my inmost thoughts.
I know indeed
that it is a noble custom in a man
to bind fast his thoughts with restraint,
hold his treasure-chest, think what he will.

The man weary in spirit cannot withstand fate,
nor may the troubled mind offer help.
Therefore those eager for praise often bind a sad mind
in their breast-coffer with restraint.
So I, miserably sad, separated from homeland,
far from my noble kin, had to bind my thoughts with fetters,

since that long ago the darkness of the earth
covered my gold-friend, and I, abject,
proceeded thence, winter-sad, over the binding of the waves.

Sad, I sought the hall of a giver of treasure,
Where I might find, far or near,
one who in the meadhall might know about my people,
or might wish to comfort me, friendless,
entertain with delights. He knows who experiences it

how cruel care is as a companion,
to him who has few beloved protectors.
The path of exile awaits him, not twisted gold,
frozen feelings, not earth’s glory.
he remembers retainers and the receiving of treasure,

how in youth his gold-friend
accustomed him to the feast. But all pleasure has failed.
Indeed he knows who must for a long time do without
the counsels of his beloved lord
when sorrow and sleep together

often bind the wretched solitary man–
he thinks in his heart that he
embraces and kisses his lord, and lays
hands and head on his knee, just as he once at times
in former days, enjoyed the gift-giving.

Then the friendless man awakes again,
sees before him the dusky waves,
the seabirds bathing, spreading their wings,
frost and snow fall, mingled with hail.
Then are his heart’s wounds the heavier because of that,

sore with longing for a loved one. Sorrow is renewed
when the memory of kinsmen passes through his mind;
he greets with signs of joy, eagerly surveys
his companions, warriors. They swim away again.
The spirit of the floating ones never brings there many

familiar utterances. Care is renewed
for the one who must very often send
his weary spirit over the binding of the waves,
Therefore I cannot think why throughout the world
my mind should not grow dark

when I contemplate all the life of men,
how they suddenly left the hall floor,
brave young retainers. So this middle-earth
fails and falls each day;
therefore a man may not become wise before he owns

a share of winters in the kingdom of this world. A wise man must be patient,
nor must he ever be too hot tempered, nor too hasty of speech
nor too weak in battles, nor too heedless,
nor too fearful, nor too cheerful, nor too greedy for wealth
nor ever too eager for boasting before he knows for certain.

A man must wait, when he speaks a boast,
until, stout-hearted, he knows for certain 
whither the thought of the heart may wish to turn.
The prudent man must realize how ghastly it will be
when all the wealth of this world stands waste,

as now variously throughout this middle-earth
walls stand beaten by the wind,
covered with rime, snow-covered the dwellings.
The wine-halls go to ruin, the rulers lie
deprived of joy, the host has all perished

proud by the wall. Some war took,
carried on the way forth; one a bird carried off
over the high sea; one the gray wolf shared
with Death; one a sad-faced nobleman
buried in an earth-pit.

So the Creator of men laid waste this region,
until the ancient world of giants, lacking the noises
of the citizens, stood idle.
He who deeply contemplates this wall-stead,
and this dark life with wise thought,

old in spirit, often remembers long ago,
a multitude of battles, and speaks these words:
“Where is the horse? Where is the young warrior? Where is the giver of treasure?
Where are the seats of the banquets? Where are the joys in the hall?
Alas the bright cup! Alas the mailed warrior!
Alas the glory of the prince! How the time has gone,
vanished under night’s helm, as if it never were!
Now in place of a beloved host stands
a wall wondrously high, decorated with the likenesses of serpents.
The powers of spears took the noblemen,
weapons greedy for slaughter; fate the renowned,
and storms beat against these rocky slopes,
falling snowstorm binds the earth,
the noise of winter, then the dark comes.
The shadow of night grows dark, sends from the north
a rough shower of hail in enmity to the warriors.
All the kingdom of earth is full of trouble,
the operation of the fates changes the world under the heavens.
Here wealth is transitory, here friend is transitory,
here man is transitory, here woman is transitory,

this whole foundation of the earth becomes empty.
So spoke the wise in spirit, sat by himself in private meditation.
He who is good keeps his pledge, nor shall the man ever manifest
the anger of his breast too quickly, unless he, the man,
should know beforehand how to accomplish the remedy with courage.
It will be well for him who seeks grace,

comfort from the Father in the heavens, where a fastness
stands for us all.


THE SEAFARER
On the one hand The narrator is describing the dangers and hardships of sea life but on the other he’s telling about his love and fascination with the sea. And then we can see a homiletic discourse about transitory of worldly joys and praising humble, honest living. The SEAFARER is the example of medieval teaching
Medieval poet used literature to teach people, they tried to hand over some moral values through the poetry.
Both these poem are sea elegies. Elegy is a mournful melancholic poem, very often it is a lament for dead like in The Wanderer. It treats about death, heroes and glory. There is a lot of grief and melancholy.
            This tale is true, and mine. It tells 
            How the sea took me, swept me back
            And forth in sorrow and fear and pain,
            Showed me suffering in a hundred ships,
5          In a thousand ports, and in me. It tells
            Of smashing surf when I sweated in the cold
            Of an anxious watch, perched in the bow
            As it dashed under cliffs. My feet were cast
            In icy bands, bound with frost,
10        With frozen chains, and hardship groaned
            Around my heart. Hunger tore
            At my sea-weary soul. No man sheltered
            On the quiet fairness of earth can feel
            How wretched I was, drifting through winter
15        On an ice-cold sea, whirled in sorrow,
            Alone in a world blown clear of love,
            Hung with icicles. The hailstorms flew.
            The only sound was the roaring sea,
            The freezing waves. The song of the swan
20        Might serve for pleasure, the cry of the sea-fowl,
            The death-noise of birds instead of laughter,
            The mewing of gulls instead of mead.
            Storms beat on the rocky cliffs and were echoed
            By icy-feathered terns and the eagle’s screams;
25        No kinsman could offer comfort there,
            To a soul left drowning in desolation.
            And who could believe, knowing but
            The passion of cities, swelled proud with wine
            And no taste of misfortune, how often, how wearily,
30        I put myself back on the paths of the sea.
            Night would blacken; it would snow from the north;
            Frost bound the earth and hail would fall,
            The coldest seeds. And how my heart
            Would begin to beat, knowing once more
35        The salt waves tossing and the towering sea!
            The time for journeys would come and my soul
            Called me eagerly out, sent me over
            The horizon, seeking foreigners’ homes.
            But there isn’t a man on earth so proud,
40        So born to greatness, so bold with his youth,
            Grown so brave, or so graced by God,
            That he feels no fear as the sails unfurl,
            Wondering what Fate has willed and will do.
            No harps ring in his heart, no rewards,
45        No passion for women, no worldly pleasures,
            Nothing, only the ocean’s heave;
            But longing wraps itself around him.
            Orchards blossom, the towns bloom,
            Fields grow lovely as the world springs fresh,
50        And all these admonish that willing mind
            Leaping to journeys, always set
            In thoughts traveling on a quickening tide.
            So summer’s sentinel, the cuckoo, sings
            In his murmuring voice, and our hearts mourn
55        As he urges. Who could understand,
            In ignorant ease, what we others suffer
            As the paths of exile stretch endlessly on?
            And yet my heart wanders away,
            My soul roams with the sea, the whales’
60        Home, wandering to the widest corners
            Of the world, returning ravenous with desire,
            Flying solitary, screaming, exciting me
            To the open ocean, breaking oaths
            On the curve of a wave.
            Thus the joys of God
65        Are fervent with life, where life itself
            Fades quickly into the earth. The wealth
            Of the world neither reaches to Heaven nor remains.
            No man has ever faced the dawn
            Certain which of Fate’s three threats
70        Would fall: illness, or age, or an enemy’s
            Sword, snatching the life from his soul.
            The praise the living pour on the dead
            Flowers from reputation: plant
            An earthly life of profit reaped
75        Even from hatred and rancor, of bravery
            Flung in the devil’s face, and death
            Can only bring you earthly praise
            And a song to celebrate a place
            With the angels, life eternally blessed
            In the hosts of Heaven.
80             The days are gone
            When the kingdoms of earth flourished in glory;
            Now there are no rulers, no emperors,
            No givers of gold, as once there were,
            When wonderful things were worked among them
85        And they lived in lordly magnificence.
            Those powers have vanished, those pleasures are dead.
            The weakest survives and the world continues,
            Kept spinning by toil. All glory is tarnished.
            The world’s honor ages and shrinks.
90        Bent like the men who mould it. Their faces
            Blanch as time advances, their beards
            Wither and they mourn the memory of friends.
            The sons of princes, sown in the dust.
            The soul stripped of its flesh knows nothing
95        Of sweetness or sour, feels no pain,
            Bends neither its hand nor its brain. A brother
            Opens his palms and pours down gold
            On his kinsman’s grave, strewing his coffin
            With treasures intended for Heaven, but nothing
100      Golden shakes the wrath of God
            For a soul overflowing with sin, and nothing
            Hidden on earth rises to Heaven.
            We all fear God. He turns the earth,
            He set it swinging firmly in space,
105     Gave life to the world and light to the sky.
            Death leaps at the fools who forget their God.
            He who lives humbly has angels from Heaven
            To carry him courage and strength and belief.
            A man must conquer pride, not kill it,
110      Be firm with his fellows, chaste for himself,
            Treat all the world as the world deserves,
            With love or with hate but never with harm,
            Though an enemy seek to scorch him in hell,
            Or set the flames of a funeral pyre
115      Under his lord. Fate is stronger
            And God mightier than any man’s mind.
            Our thoughts should turn to where our home is,
            Consider the ways of coming there,
            Then strive for sure permission for us
120     To rise to that eternal joy,
            That life born in the love of God
            And the hope of Heaven. Praise the Holy
            Grace of Him who honored us,
            Eternal, unchanging creator of earth. Amen.
THE DREAM OF THE ROOD is an example of CHRISTIAN POEM.
The narrator is having a dream in which he’s speaking to the cross on which Christ was crucified. The poem is divided into three sections.
In the first part the narrator see the cross covered with gems.
In the next section the Crucifixion story is told from the point of cross’s view. At first when it was a tree and people came to cut it down. The cut down tree finds out that is to be a bearer of the criminals but instead the Christ comes to be crucified the Lord and the cross become one and stand together refusing to fall, they’re both pierced with nails. The cross is most honorable among trees and the Christ is the most honorable among the mankind.
In section three the author gives his reflection about this vision. The dream ends and he’s left with his thoughts. He’s filled with hope for eternal life and his desire to be near that glorious cross again.