A. Wondrously wrought and fair its wall of stone, Shattered by Fate! The castles rent asunder, The work of giants moldered away! 34Its roofs are breaking and falling; its towers crumble In ruin. Plundered those walls with grated doors — Their mortar white with frost. Its battered ramparts are shorn away and ruined, all undermined By eating age. The mighty men that built it, Departed hence, undone by death, are held Fast in the earthâs embrace. Tight is the clutch Of the grave, while overhead of living men A hundred generations pass away. The city wall Long this red wall, now mossy gray, withstood, While kingdom followed kingdom in the land, Unshaken âneath the storms of heaven — yet now Its towering gate hath fallen. . . . Radiant the mead-halls in that city bright, Yea, many were its baths. High rose its wealth Of hornèd pinnacles, while loud within Was heard the joyous revelry of men — Till mighty Fate came with her sudden change! Wide-wasting was the battle where they fell. Plague-laden days upon the city came; Death snatched away that mighty host of men. . . . There in the olden time full many a thane, Shining with gold, all gloriously adorned, Haughty in heart, rejoiced when hot with wine; Upon him gleamed his armor, and he gazed On gold and silver and all precious gems; On riches and on wealth and treasured jewels, A radiant city in a kingdom wide. The hot baths There stood the courts of stone. Hot within, The stream flowed with its mighty surge. The wall Surrounded all with its bright bosom; there The baths stood, hot within its heart. . . . From Cook and Tinker, Translations from Old English Poetry, pp. 56-57; trans. by Chauncey B.Tinker.

B. Glorious is this wall-stone broken by Fate; a city burst, the works of giants wasted away. The roofs have collapsed, the towers are in ruins, the barred gates gone, the cement encrusted with hoarfrost, vacant roofs cut down, crumbled and eaten away by age. In Earth's grip have the master-builders decayed, passed out of memory in the Earth's jealous grasp, until a hundred generations have come and gone. Long has this wall endured though lichen-grey and tarnished red, stronger than its makers, standing still under storms though its tallest arches have crumbled. It has endured, though cut down, penetrated, and buffeted by grinding weapons; still there is the shine of celestial joys, of the skillful ancient work, though caked and crusted with mire. Here is a wonder: in the mind swiftly devised, ingeniously, and with rings bound bravely and wondrously together was this foundation trammeled. Happy were their homes, bath houses numerous, gables high and ornamented,

streets busy with activity, mead halls, men enjoying life to the fullest until Fate, strong and pitiless, changed all that. Slaughtered men fell widely, the day of pestilence came, and conquering death destroyed all the valiant men; their fortress of defence became a waste place, and their city a ruin. Even its rebuilders perished making war amongst themselves. Thus is this gallery decayed, and these red, curved tiles separated and fallen from its vaulted dome. Fallen down to the ground, crumbled to the mountains, where once many a warrior, blithe and cheerful, splendrously adorned with gilt armor, proud and ruddy, gazed on treasures, on silver, on gem stones, on prosperity, on possessions, on precious stones, and on this their bright city of a wide kingdom. Here a stone house once stood, and here a hot stream cast its surge widely: a wall caught all in its bright bosom, and there the bath was hot on the hearth. This was a convenience. Then was allowed to pour on banks of hoary stones, the hot streams until * * * * * * * * * * * * [Cætera Codicus mutilatione desunt]

Translated by Eric F.J. Martin, 1999.

C. Wondrously wrought and fair its wall of stone, Shattered by Fate! The castles rent asunder, The work of giants moldered away! Its roofs are breaking and falling; its towers crumble In ruin. Plundered those walls with grated doors — Their mortar white with frost. Its battered ramparts are shorn away and ruined, all undermined By eating age. The mighty men that built it, Departed hence, undone by death, are held Fast in the earthâs embrace. Tight is the clutch Of the grave, while overhead of living men A hundred generations pass away. The city wall

Long this red wall, now mossy gray, withstood, While kingdom followed kingdom in the land, Unshaken âneath the storms of heaven — yet now Its towering gate hath fallen. . . . Radiant the mead-halls in that city bright, Yea, many were its baths. High rose its wealth Of hornèd pinnacles, while loud within Was heard the joyous revelry of men — Till mighty Fate came with her sudden change! Wide-wasting was the battle where they fell. Plague-laden days upon the city came; Death snatched away that mighty host of men. . . . There in the olden time full many a thane, Shining with gold, all gloriously adorned, Haughty in heart, rejoiced when hot with wine; Upon him gleamed his armor, and he gazed On gold and silver and all precious gems; On riches and on wealth and treasured jewels, A radiant city in a kingdom wide. The hot baths

There stood the courts of stone. Hot within, The stream flowed with its mighty surge. The wall Surrounded all with its bright bosom; there The baths stood, hot within its heart. . . .

From Readings in English History Drawn From The Original Sources by Edward P. Cheyney, Ginn and Company; Boston; 1908; pp. 33-34. Trans. by Chauncey Tinker.