The Dream of the Rood
A new translation and adaptation by Colin Symes
'The Dream of the Rood'' sat for
years unread upon the bookshelf in my study. I had been given it by a
well-meaning friend, who was acquainted with my love of language, and who had
been clearing out their own library, and decided it might be of interest to me.
Looking at the
Anglo-Saxon text, obscured at times by a pencilled gloss of tiny English words,
looking rather like Ælred's Old English superscript above the Latin of the
pages of the Lindisfarne Gospels, I decided that this was well beyond me. I had
no idea of its content, nor of its significance in the
history of English sacred poetry.
<<
The Ruthwell Cross, Dumfries and
In February
2003, I decided to take the advice of Lord Alton, printed in the Telegraph's
article on recommended Lenten reading , to explore the
life and character of J R R Tolkien, author of The Lord of the Rings,
which has enjoyed such popular acclaim in these last few years. I borrowed from
the local library Humphrey Carpenter's biography of Tolkien, and began to read.
Carpenter
recalls that when Tolkien discovered Old English, he had the sensation that
here was a language he already knew deep down. This natural feel for the
ancient Anglian speech led on to his becoming eventually Rawlingson Professor
of Ango-Saxon at
My imagination
was fired by this idea that one could feel an innate connection with a dead
language; I borrowed from the library Sweet's Anglo-Saxon primer, and having
scanned a few of the basic rules, began to read the passages given for
practice. I was thrilled with the readings from the gospels in particular, and
with the extract from 'The Battle of Maldon', an ancient conflict which took
place in a place I knew well as a child, from summer days out at that lovely
town on the River Blackwater.
Still, the
'Dream of the Rood' stayed on my bookshelf, until some notion came to me that I
still had it among my dusty collection, and so I picked it up.
It was as though
the book caught fire in my hands; suddenly, it made sense, and as I read the
words, sounding the broad, ancient vowels , I became
inspired by it. I pressed on, beyond where the erstwhile owner's gloss finished
above the printed words, and began to work on the meaning for myself. I wept
over it, I worshipped with it; I began to commit parts of it to memory. And
then I knew it had to be unlocked somehow for this generation, this age that
loves Tolkien and his epic style, that is
rediscovering Celtic spirituality and its later Northumbrian offshoots.
I read of the
ancient Vercelli book, the main manuscript of the Dream, kept still
in that city in Italy; I then read of the amazing link between the poem and the
Ruthwell stone cross, preserved in the church building of that Dumfriesshire
village, and of the runes on its facings, in which are carved phrases from the
poem.
Things began to
make sense. Here was a work, probably of Northumbrian origin, linked to the
great flowering of the cult of veneration of the rood (the ancient word for the
cross) which happened here in the eighth century. The poem expressed in heroic
terms, appealing to the warrior culture of the time, the ultimate victory
Christ won at the cross, with the promise of heaven to come for those who take
the rood for their protection. It may even have been framed in the
And now this poem
is presented here, in a form accessible to modern English readers. In its
adaptation, I have sought not to be enslaved by the individual words of the
text, but have sought to keep above all the style and flow of the Old English
poetry. Where possible, I have sought to keep as close to the original sounds
as I could, which some may feel results in too much use of archaic forms. However, part of the joy of the Dream of
the Rood is its earthily pre-Norman, pre-Latinate
word sound, and this I have sought to preserve where I could. (Thus, words such
as bairn for child, still in common usage in the Scots English offspring
of Anglo-Saxon , and rood itself, meaning
cross, still found in Ecclesiastical terms such as rood-screen, and place names
such as Holyrood, are employed where they help the reader to connect with the
original.)
I hope
this work brings alive for you the spirit of the era of the first preaching of
the Good News (the Godspel) of Jesus Christ in these islands, and
of men and women captivated by the prospect of friendship with God, and of life
in bliss to come beyond the all-too inevitable grave.
BBC
Video Clip about the Ruthwell Cross
Clip from ‘The
Dream of the Rood’ in Old English (mp3) – lines 39 to 50 of the poem, found
in fragmented form in the Ruthwell Cross runes
The Dream of the Rood
translated and adapted from the Old English original
Lo ! I will recount the choicest dream
I dreamed amid the deep of night,
When speech-bearers were at their rest.
Bethought me that I saw a wondrous
tree,
Lifted aloft, light bewreathing Brightest boughs.
All that beacon was
Bedecked with gold; gems glittering, it stood,
Fair upon earth's face; five of them there were
Upon the axis-span. There beheld God's angels all,
Fair of their fore-making. Nor was that any felon's gallows, 10
But rather, hallowed spirits beheld it there,
Men earthly, mortal, with all
creation's marvels .
Splendid was that saving tree, but
I, foul with sin,
Wounded sore with woe, I saw the wondrous tree,
Winsome, shining, wearing a worthy covering,
Begirt with gold; gems now
Weighed worthily upon the Ruler's tree.
Yet through that gold I still could glimpse
The erstwhile agony, as it first began
To sweat blood from its right-hand side. Full of sore distress, 20
I feared before that fair vision. I saw that fateful sign
Change covering and color; where it had been wet and damp,
Steeped in a
stream of blood, now in such wealth arrayed.
While I was yet a long time lying
there,
Heart-sorrowed, I beheld the healing tree,
And then I heard that it addressed me;
This best of wood began to speak with words:
"It was years ago (I still
remember well)
That I was hewn down at the holt's edge,
Stripped from my stock. Strong foemen took me thence; 30
Working me into a warning-sign - they meant to have me
raise up their rogues.
Borne on broad man-shoulders, 'til they set me on a hill-brow,
Many foemen fastened me there. The Lord of mankind
then I saw
Hastening with great desire that he should climb upon me.
There, then, I durst not at the dear Lord's word
Bow nor break, e'en when I beheld the quaking
Face of earth. Well might I have felled
All his foemen, but rather I stood fast.
The young hero undressed himself, (this was God almighty)
Strong and steadfast ; he stepped up on the high
gallows, 40
Mighty, in full sight of many, for he would loose mankind.
I trembled as the Warrior embraced
me; yet did not dare to buckle ground-ward,
To fall upon the face of earth, but as I should, stood
fast.
I was raised up a rood; I lifted up the bless'd
realm's King,
High Lord of heaven, I durst not fail Him.
They drove me through with dark and evil nails:
Upon me still the doleful wounds
are seen,
Open wounds of malice; nor durst I any of them injure.
They mocked us both together; I
was all steeped in blood,
Poured from that human side, after he sent forth his spirit. 50
Fully had I endured upon that hill
A fearful fate. I saw the God of hosts
Ruthlessly racked. The gloom had
Covered in cloud the High King's corpse,
That shimmering star; a shadow went forth ,
Dark under the sky. All creatures wept,
Crying at the king's fall; Christ was on cross.
But then came faithful ones from far
To that Prince's side. I beheld it all.
Though sore was I, and sorrow-afflicted, 60
Yet I submitted to the warriors'
hands,
Humbled most willingly. They took from me Almighty God,
Hove him from that heavy torture. The warriors left me then
Standing, drenched and streaming, wounded still with piercings
.
Laid they there that limb-weary one, then stood at his lifeless head,
Beholding there the Lord of heaven, and resting there awhile,
Grim after that great battle. Began they then to make a grave for him,
These brave ones, in full sight of his bane; carved of bright stone;
They laid therein their Lord and Victor. Began they
then to make lament, Eerie on the eventide, ere they departed after, 70
Wearied, from this wondrous prince; rested he there with the few.
Yet we remained a-weeping a good
while
Still standing at our stations, after the departure
Of the Warriors. The body cooled,
Fair life-dwelling , then they began to fell us
All to earth. That was a fearful fate!
They dug us a deep pit and buried us. Yet there the Lord's servants,
His friends, found me,
And adorned me with gold and silver.
Now you may hear, O my beloved
hero, 80
That I have suffered evil-doers' works ,
And sore sorrows. The season is now come
When far and wide I am called worthy;
Men earthly, mortal, and all creation's marvels,
Beseech this bright beacon. For upon me God's bairn
Suffered at that time; therefore I am now gloriously
Raised high to the heavens, and may heal
Each and all who shall be in awe of me.
Once was I made the worst of
torments,
By folk most feared, ere I life's way 90
Of righteousess revealed to speech-bearers.
Lo, then was I honoured by the Prince of Glory
Above all holm and wood, by
Heaven's Guardian !
Just as he too his mother, Mary , Almighty God
for all men Made worthy above all
womankind.
Now would I have you, my beloved
young hero,
Tell this vision unto many men,
Unwrap these words; this is the wondrous cross
On which Almighty God once suffered 100
For mankind's manifold sins
And Adam's
ancient work.
Death He tasted there, but the
Lord arose
In his mighty might as mankind's helper,
Then stepped into the heavens. Hither coming again
To this middle-earth
, mankind seeking
On Doomsday, the dear Lord himself ,
Almighty God, his angels with Him,
Then will judge, with his judgement's power
Each one, as he shall hereto 100
In this fleeting life have earned himself.
Nor may any there be unafraid
Of the word which the wise Lord speaks:
He will ask before many where might the man be,
That for the Lord's name would
Taste bitter death, as he did first upon that tree.
But they then fearing, will little think
What they could begin to say to Christ.
Yet there then need not any be
afeared
Who ere bears in his breast this best of signs, 120
For through this rood shall reach his realm
From the earthly way, each and
every soul
That with the Lord desires to
dwell."
I beseeched then at that rood-beam
with blithe heart,
With great zeal, while I was alone,
Away from crowds; my mind was
Focused on its forward path, fully enduring all
Its times of longing. My life's hope now is
That I might seek out this victory-tree
Alone, more often than all other men - 130
It is well worthy. My will in this is
Much in mind, and my mainstay is
Rigged upon that rood. I have not many rich
Friends on earth; for they hence forth
Have quit the world's delights, seeking for that
wondrous King.
Living now in heaven with their
High Father,
They dwell in glory; and I look for
That day when the Lord's cross,
Which here on earth I once was shown,
From this fleeting life might fetch me 140
And then bring me where there is much joy ,
Delight in heaven, where the Lord's folk are
Seated at the feast, where there is single bliss,
That I might then be sat where afterwards I may
Dwell in glory, as well of those holy
Delights partaking. Be to me, O Lord, a friend,
Who here on earth once did suffer
On that gallows-tree for human sin ,
Unloosing us to give us back our life,
And heavenly home. Hope was renewed 150
With blessedness and bliss for them who otherwise
should burn.
The Son's victory secure, he then
set out,
Mighty and swift, as he came with many,
A company of souls, to God's own
realm,
Almighty Overlord, to angels in their bliss,
And to all those holy ones who now in heaven
Dwelt in its wonders, as their liege-Lord came,
Almighty God, to where his
homeland was.
©
Colin Symes, Edinburgh 28 Dec 2003
Now follows the Interlinear
translation with the original Anglo-Saxon version
Modern English lines in bold
type
Original Anglo-Saxon in plain
italics
Lines carved in runes on the
Ruthwell Cross in plain type
Lo ! I will recount the choicest dream,
Hwæt! Ic swefna cyst secgan wylle,
I dreamed amid the deep of night,
hwæt me gemætte to midre nihte,
when speech-bearers were at their rest.
syðþan reordberend reste wunedon!
Bethought me that I saw a wondrous tree,
Þuhte me þæt ic gesawe syllicre treow
Lifted aloft, light bewreathing
on lyft lædan, leohte bewunden,
Brightest boughs. All that beacon was
beama beorhtost. Eall þæt beacen wæs
bedecked with gold; gems glittering, it stood,
begoten mid golde. Gimmas stodon
Fair upon earth's face; five of them there were
fægere æt foldan sceatum, swylce þær fife wæron
upon the axis-span. There beheld God's angels all,
uppe on þam eaxlegespanne. Beheoldon þær engel dryhtnes ealle,
fair of their fore-making. Nor was that any felon's gallows,
fægere þurh forðgesceaft. Ne wæs ðær huru fracodes gealga,
but rather, hallowed spirits beheld it there,
ac hine þær beheoldon halige gastas,
Men earthly, mortal, with all created marvels .
men ofer moldan, ond eall þeos mære
gesceaft.
Splendid was that saving tree, but I, foul with sin,
Syllic wæs se sigebeam, ond ic synnum fah,
wounded sore with woe, I saw the wondrous tree
forwunded mid wommum. Geseah ic wuldres treow,
Winsome, shining, wearing a worthy covering,
wædum geweorðode, wynnum scinan,
begirt with gold; gems now
gegyred mid golde; gimmas hæfdon
weighed worthily upon the Ruler's tree.
bewrigene weorðlice wealdendes treow.
Yet through that gold I still could glimpse
Hwæðre ic þurh þæt gold ongytan meahte
the erstwhile agony, as it first began
earmra ærgewin, þæt hit ærest ongan
To sweat blood from its right-hand side. Full of sore
distress,
swætan on þa swiðran healfe. Eall ic wæs mid sorgum gedrefed,
I feared before that fair vision. I saw that fateful sign
forht ic wæs for þære fægran gesyhðe. Geseah ic þæt fuse beacen
change covering and color; where it had been wet and damp,
wendan wædum ond bleom; hwilum hit wæs mid wætan
bestemed,
steeped in a stream of blood, now in such wealth arrayed.
beswyled mid swates gange, hwilum mid since
gegyrwed.
While I was yet a long time lying there,
Hwæðre ic þær licgende lange hwile
heart-sorrowed, I beheld the healing tree,
beheold hreowcearig hælendes treow,
and then I heard that it addressed me;
oððæt ic gehyrde þæt hit hleoðrode.
This best of wood began to speak with words:
Ongan þa word sprecan wudu selesta:
"That was years ago (I
still remember well)
"Þæt wæs geara iu, (ic þæt gyta geman),
that I was hewn down at the holt's edge,
þæt ic wæs aheawen holtes on ende,
stripped from my stock. Strong foemen took me thence;
astyred of stefne minum. Genaman me ðær strange feondas,
working me into a warning-sign - they meant to have me raise
up their rogues.
geworhton him þær to wæfersyne, heton me
heora wergas hebban.
Borne on broad man-shoulders, 'til they set me on a hill- brow,
Bæron me ðær beornas on eaxlum, oððæt hie me on beorg asetton,
many foemen fastened me there. The Lord of mankind then I saw
gefæstnodon me þær feondas genoge. Geseah ic þa
frean mancynnes
hastening in great desire that he might climb upon me.
efstan elne mycle þæt he me wolde on
gestigan.
35 There then I durst not at the dear Lord's word
Þær ic þa ne dorste ofer dryhtnes word
bow nor break, e'en when I beheld the quaking
bugan oððe berstan, þa ic bifian geseah
face of earth. Well might I have felled
eorðan sceatas. Ealle ic
mihte
all his foemen, but rather I stood fast.
feondas gefyllan, hwæðre ic fæste stod.
The young hero undressed himself, (this was God almighty)
Ongyrede hine þa geong hæleð, (þæt wæs god ælmihtig),
+ Ondgeredæ Hinæ . . . . .God Alme3ttig.
40 strong and steadfast ; he stepped up on the high
gallows,
strang ond stiðmod. Gestah he on gealgan heanne,
Þa He walde on galgu gistiga
mighty, in full sight of many, for he would loose mankind.
modig on manigra gesyhðe, þa he wolde mancyn
lysan.
modig fore allæ men
I trembled as the Warrior embraced me; yet did not dare to buckle
ground-ward,
Bifode ic þa me se beorn ymbclypte. Ne dorste ic
hwæðre bugan to eorðan,
buga ic ni dorstæ
to fall upon the face of earth, but as I should, stood fast.
feallan to foldan sceatum, ac ic sceolde
fæste standan.
ac scealde fæstæ standa.
I was raised up a rood; I lifted up the bless'd realm's King,
Rod wæs ic aræred. Ahof ic
ricne cyning,
Ahof ic riicnæ Kyninc.
45 High Lord of heaven, I durst not fail Him.
heofona hlaford, hyldan me ne dorste.
Heafunæs Hlaford hælda ic ni dorsæ.
They drove me through with dark and evil nails: upon me still the doleful
wounds are seen,
ðurhdrifan hi me mid deorcan næglum. On me syndon þa dolg
gesiene,
open wounds of malice. Nor durst I any of them
injure.
opene inwidhlemmas. Ne dorste ic hira nænigum sceððan.
They mocked us both together. I was all steeped in blood,
Bysmeredon hie unc butu ætgædere. Eall ic wæs mid
blode bestemed,
Bismæradu unket men ba ætgadre; ic wæs miþ blodi bistemid,
poured from that human side, after he sent forth his spirit.
begoten of þæs guman sidan, siððan he hæfde
his gast onsended.
bigoten of þæs Guman sida siþþan He His gastæ sendæ.
50 Fully had I endured upon that hill
Feala ic on þam beorge gebiden hæbbe
a fearful fate. I saw the God of hosts
wraðra wyrda. Geseah ic weruda god
ruthlessly racked. The gloom had
þearle þenian. Þystro hæfdon
covered in cloud the High King's corpse,
bewrigen mid wolcnum wealdendes hræw,
that shimmering star, a shadow went forth ,
scirne sciman, sceadu forðeode,
55 dark under the sky. All creatures wept,
wann under wolcnum. Weop eal gesceaft,
crying at the king's fall; Christ was on cross.
cwiðdon cyninges fyll. Crist
wæs on rode.
+ Krist wæs on rodi.
But then came faithful ones
from far
Hwæðere þær fuse feorran cwoman
Hweþræ þer fusæ fearran kwomu
to that Prince's side. I beheld it all.
to þam æðelinge. Ic
þæt eall beheold.
æþþilæ til anum: ic þæt al biheald.
Though sore was I, and sorrow-afflicted, yet I submitted to the warriors'
hands,
Sare ic wæs mid sorgum gedrefed, hnag ic hwæðre þam
secgum to handa,
Saræ ic wæs miþ sorgum gidrœfid; hnag ic þam secgum til handa.
60 humbled most willingly. They took from me almighty God,
eaðmod elne mycle. Genamon hie þær ælmihtigne god,
hove him from that heavy torture. The warriors left me then
ahofon hine of ðam hefian wite. Forleton me þa
hilderincas
standing, drenched and streaming, wounded still with piercings
.
standan steame bedrifenne; eall ic wæs mid
strælum forwundod.
Miþ strelum giwundad
Laid they there that limb-weary one, then stood at his lifeless head;
Aledon hie ðær limwerigne, gestodon him æt his lices heafdum,
alegdun hiæ Hinæ limwœrignæ; gistoddun him æt His licæs heafdum;
beholding there the Lord of heaven, and resting there awhile,
beheoldon hie ðær heofenes dryhten, ond he hine ðær hwile reste,
bihealdun hiæ þer Heafunæs Dryctin; ond He Hinæ þer hwilæ restæ.
65 grim after that great battle. Began they then a grave to make for him,
meðe æfter ðam miclan gewinne. Ongunnon him þa
moldern wyrcan
these brave ones, in full sight of his bane; carved of bright stone,
beornas on banan gesyhðe; curfon hie ðæt of beorhtan stane,
they laid therein their Lord and Victor. Began
they then to make lament,
gesetton
hie ðæron sigora wealdend. Ongunnon him þa sorhleoð galan
eerie on the eventide, ere they departed after,
earme on þa æfentide, þa hie woldon eft siðian,
wearied, from this wondrous prince; rested he there with the few.
meðe fram þam mæran þeodne. Reste he ðær mæte weorode.
70 Yet we remained a-weeping a good while
Hwæðere we ðær greotende gode hwile
Still standing at our stations, after the departure
stodon on staðole, syððan stefn up gewat
of the Warriors. The body cooled,
hilderinca. Hræw colode,
fair life-dwelling , then they began to fell us
fæger feorgbold. Þa us man fyllan ongan
all to earth. That was a fearful fate!
ealle to eorðan. Þæt wæs egeslic wyrd!
75 They dug us a deep pit and buried us. Yet there the Lord's servants,
Bedealf us man on deopan seaþe. Hwæðre me þær dryhtnes þegnas,
His friends, found me,
freondas gefrunon,
and adorned me with gold and silver.
ond gyredon me golde ond seolfre.
"Now you may hear, O my
beloved hero,
Nu ðu miht gehyran, hæleð min se leofa,
that I have suffered evil-doers' works ,
þæt ic bealuwara weorc gebiden hæbbe,
80 and sore sorrows. The season is now come
sarra sorga. Is nu sæl cumen
when far and wide I am called worthy
þæt me weorðiað wide ond side
men earthly, mortal, and all creation's marvels,
menn ofer moldan, ond eall þeos mære gesceaft,
beseech this bright beacon. For upon me God's bairn
gebiddaþ him to þyssum beacne. On me
suffered at that time; therefore I am now gloriously
þrowode hwile. Forþan ic þrymfæst nu
85 raised high to the heavens, and may heal
hlifige under heofenum, ond ic hælan mæg
each and all who shall be in awe of me.
æghwylcne anra, þara þe him bið egesa to me.
Once was I made the worst of torments,
Iu ic wæs geworden wita heardost,
by folk most feared, ere I life's way
leodum laðost, ærþan ic him lifes weg
of righteousess revealed to speech-bearers.
rihtne gerymde, reordberendum.
90 Lo, then was I honoured by the Prince of Glory, Hwæt, me þa
geweorðode wuldres ealdor
above all holm and wood, by Heaven's Guardian ! ofer holmwudu, heofonrices weard!
Just as he too his mother Mary ,
Swylce swa he his modor eac,
Marian sylfe,
Almighty God, for all men
ælmihtig god for ealle menn
made her worthy above all womankind.
geweorðode ofer eall wifa cynn.
95 "Now would I have you,
my beloved young hero,
Nu ic þe hate, hæleð min se leofa,
Tell this vision unto many men
þæt ðu þas gesyhðe secge mannum,
unwrap these words; this is the wondrous cross
onwreoh wordum þæt hit is wuldres beam,
on which almighty God once suffered
se ðe ælmihtig god on þrowode
for mankind's manifold sins for mancynnes manegum synnum
100 and Adam's ancient work. ond
Adomes ealdgewyrhtum.
Death He tasted there, but the Lord arose
Deað he þær byrigde, hwæðere eft dryhten aras
in his mighty might as mankind's helper .
mid his miclan mihte mannum to helpe.
Then stepped into the heavens. Hither coming
again
He ða on
heofenas astag.
Hider eft fundaþ
to this middle-earth , mankind seeking,
on þysne middangeard mancynn secan
105 on doomsday the dear Lord himself ,
on domdæge dryhten sylfa,
almighty God, his angels with Him,
ælmihtig god, ond his englas mid,
then will judge, with his judgement's power
þæt he þonne wile deman, se ah domes geweald,
each one as he shall hereto
anra gehwylcum swa he him ærur her
in this fleeting life have earned himself.
on þyssum lænum life geearnaþ.
110 Nor may any there be unafraid
Ne mæg þær ænig unforht wesan
of the word which the wise Lord speaks:
for þam worde þe se wealdend cwyð.
He will ask before many where might the man be,
Frineð he for þære mænige hwær se man sie,
that for the Lord's name would
se ðe for dryhtnes naman deaðes wolde
taste bitter death, as he did first upon that tree.
biteres onbyrigan, swa he ær on ðam beame
dyde.
115 But they then fearing, will little think
Ac hie þonne forhtiað, ond fea þencaþ
what they could begin to say to Christ.
hwæt hie to Criste cweðan onginnen.
Yet there need not then any be afeared
Ne þearf ðær þonne ænig anforht wesan
who ere bears in his breast this best of signs,
þe him ær in breostum bereð beacna selest,
For through this rood shall reach his realm
ac ðurh ða rode sceal rice gesecan
120 from the earthly way, each and every soul
of eorðwege æghwylc sawl,
that with the Lord desires to dwell."
seo þe mid wealdende wunian þenceð."
I beseeched then at that
rood-beam with a blithe heart,
Gebæd ic me þa to þan beame bliðe mode,
with great zeal, while I was alone
elne mycle, þær ic ana wæs
away from crowds; my mind was
mæte werede. Wæs modsefa
125 focused on its forward path, fully enduring all
afysed on forðwege, feala ealra gebad
its times of longing. My life's hope now is
langunghwila. Is me nu lifes
hyht
that I might seek out this victory-tree
þæt ic þone sigebeam secan mote
alone, more often than all other men -
ana oftor þonne ealle men,
it is well worthy. My will in this is
well weorþian. Me is willa to ðam
130 much in mind, and my mainstay is
mycel on mode, ond min mundbyrd is
rigged upon that rood. I have not many rich
geriht to þære rode. Nah ic ricra feala
friends on earth; for they hence forth
freonda on foldan, ac hie forð heonon
have quit the world's delights, seeking for that wondrous King
,
gewiton of worulde dreamum,
sohton him wuldres cyning,
living now in heaven with that High Father,
lifiaþ nu on heofenum mid heahfædere,
135 they dwell in glory; and I look for
wuniaþ on wuldre, ond ic wene me
that day when the Lord's cross,
daga gehwylce hwænne me dryhtnes rod,
which here on earth I once was shown,
þe ic her on eorðan ær sceawode,
From this fleeting life might fetch me
on þysson lænan life gefetige
and then bring me where there is much joy ,
ond me þonne gebringe þær is blis mycel,
140 Delight in heaven, where the Lord's folk are
dream on heofonum, þær is dryhtnes folc
seated at the feast, where there is single bliss,
geseted to symle, þær is singal blis,
that I might then be sat where afterwards I may
ond me þonne asette þær ic syþþan mot
dwell in glory, as well of those holy
wunian on wuldre, well mid þam halgum
delights partaking. Be to me, O Lord, a friend,
dreames brucan. Si me dryhten freond,
145 who here on earth once did suffer
se ðe her on eorþan ær þrowode
on that gallows-tree for human sin ,
on þam gealgtreowe for guman synnum.
Unloosing us to give us back our life,
He us onlysde ond us lif forgeaf,
and heavenly home. Hope was renewed
heofonlicne ham. Hiht wæs geniwad
with blessedness and bliss for them who otherwise should burn.
mid bledum ond mid blisse þam þe þær bryne
þolodan.
150 The Son's victory secure, he then set out,
Se sunu wæs sigorfæst on þam siðfate,
mighty and swift, as he came with many,
mihtig ond spedig, þa he mid manigeo com,
a company of souls, to God's own realm,
gasta weorode, on godes rice,
Almighty Overlord, to angels in
their bliss,
anwealda ælmihtig, englum to blisse
and to all those holy ones who now in heaven
ond eallum ðam halgum þam þe on heofonum ær
155 dwelt in its wonders, as their liege-Lord came,
wunedon on wuldre, þa heora wealdend cwom,
Almighty God, to where his homeland was.
ælmihtig god, þær his eðel wæs.