Poem of the week
The poetry post is officially moving to Saturdays, because Fridays are usually family nights and therefore leave little time to post.
For a change of flavor from my recent Victorian and twentieth-century selections, this week's poem is from Old English. It requires a bit of introduction. . .
These are the opening lines of Christ I, a long set of lyrics used in medieval English churches during the Advent season. These particular lines are addressed to Christ himself.
I can't find an exact date of authorship; I'm guessing 8th or 9th century. (If you know the date, or century, when it was written, please do post it.) This selection is translated by Charles Kennedy. As near as I can tell, the Old English is on this page (my first selection beginning at line 2; the beginning of the manuscript has been lost).
And one more thing: I'm curious. What do you think of the theology of this poem?
Christ I
Thou art the wall-stone the workers rejected
Of old from the work. It befits Thee well
That Thou shouldst be Head of the glorious hall
Locking together the lengthy walls,
The flint unbroken, in a firm embrace,
That ever on earth the eyes of all
May look with wonder on the Lord of glory.
With cunning skill display Thy craft
Triumphant, Righteous; and quickly raise
Wall against wall. The work hath need
That the Craftsman come, the King Himself;
That He then rebuild what now is broken,
The house under its roof. He wrought the body,
The limbs, of clay; now the Lord of life
Must rescue from devils the droves of the wretched,
The damned from their terrors as He oft hath done.
O Thou Ruler and Righteous King,
Keeping the keys, unlocking life,
Grant us salvation and the joyous journey
Denied to others if their works be weak.
In great necessity we speak these words
Asking of Him Who created man
That in anger He utter not doom on the wretched . . .
Wherefore one may say, who speaketh truth,
That He saved mankind when they went astray.
The Maid was young, the Immaculate Virgin,
Whom He chose as Mother; without man's love
The Bride grew great with the Son's conception.
Never in all the world early or late
Was a woman's conceiving such as this.
It was a marvellous mystery of God!
Then ghostly grace spread over the earth;
And much was illumined by the Lord of life
That once was secret and concealed in dark,
Ancient lays and lore of the prophets,
When the Wielder came, fulfilling each word
Of those who wisely with warm hearts
Praise and exalt the Creator's name.
(Charles Kennedy, Early English Christian Poetry: Translated into Alliterative Verse, New York: Oxford University Press, 1952, pp. 85-86)
For a change of flavor from my recent Victorian and twentieth-century selections, this week's poem is from Old English. It requires a bit of introduction. . .
These are the opening lines of Christ I, a long set of lyrics used in medieval English churches during the Advent season. These particular lines are addressed to Christ himself.
I can't find an exact date of authorship; I'm guessing 8th or 9th century. (If you know the date, or century, when it was written, please do post it.) This selection is translated by Charles Kennedy. As near as I can tell, the Old English is on this page (my first selection beginning at line 2; the beginning of the manuscript has been lost).
And one more thing: I'm curious. What do you think of the theology of this poem?
Christ I
Thou art the wall-stone the workers rejected
Of old from the work. It befits Thee well
That Thou shouldst be Head of the glorious hall
Locking together the lengthy walls,
The flint unbroken, in a firm embrace,
That ever on earth the eyes of all
May look with wonder on the Lord of glory.
With cunning skill display Thy craft
Triumphant, Righteous; and quickly raise
Wall against wall. The work hath need
That the Craftsman come, the King Himself;
That He then rebuild what now is broken,
The house under its roof. He wrought the body,
The limbs, of clay; now the Lord of life
Must rescue from devils the droves of the wretched,
The damned from their terrors as He oft hath done.
O Thou Ruler and Righteous King,
Keeping the keys, unlocking life,
Grant us salvation and the joyous journey
Denied to others if their works be weak.
In great necessity we speak these words
Asking of Him Who created man
That in anger He utter not doom on the wretched . . .
Wherefore one may say, who speaketh truth,
That He saved mankind when they went astray.
The Maid was young, the Immaculate Virgin,
Whom He chose as Mother; without man's love
The Bride grew great with the Son's conception.
Never in all the world early or late
Was a woman's conceiving such as this.
It was a marvellous mystery of God!
Then ghostly grace spread over the earth;
And much was illumined by the Lord of life
That once was secret and concealed in dark,
Ancient lays and lore of the prophets,
When the Wielder came, fulfilling each word
Of those who wisely with warm hearts
Praise and exalt the Creator's name.
(Charles Kennedy, Early English Christian Poetry: Translated into Alliterative Verse, New York: Oxford University Press, 1952, pp. 85-86)
3 Comments:
Oh, how charming and edifying! I must ask:L
Sorry, it posted before I was quite ready. I must ask: have you been writing any poetry of late?
Yes, very medieval. I realized later that although I asked about the poem's theology, I left out a few of the more controversial passages. I didn't do it on purpose--I was looking for poetic zing when I chose my selections, not theological viewpoint--but there it is.
Pinon Coffee, I haven't been writing any poetry of late. I've wanted to, but I'm afraid that so many other matters have pressed in on me that my (already limited) creativity is, um, not doing well. I hope to soon...
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