The WandererOft to the Wanderer, weary of exile,Cometh God’s pity, compassionate love,Though woefully toiling on wintry seasWith churning oar in the icy wave,Homeless and helpless he fled from Fate.5Thus saith the Wanderer mindful of misery,Grievous disasters, and death of kin:“Oft when the day broke, oft at the dawning,Lonely and wretched I wailed my woe.No man is living, no comrade left,10To whom I dare fully unlock my heart.I have learned truly the mark of a manIs keeping his counsel and locking his lips,Let him think what he will!For, woe of heartWithstandethnot Fate; a failing spirit15Earneth no help.Men eager for honorBury their sorrow deep in the breast.So have I also, often, in wretchednessFettered my feelings, far from my kin,Homeless and hapless, since days of old,20When the dark earth covered my dear lord’s face,
And I sailed away with sorrowful heart,Over wintry seas, seeking a gold-lord,If far or near lived one to befriend meWith gift in the mead-hall°and comfort for grief.25Who bears it, knows what a bitter companion,Shoulder to shoulder, sorrow can be,When friends are no more.His fortune is exile,Not gifts of fine gold; a heart that is frozen,Earth’s winsomeness dear.And he dreams of the hallmen,30The dealing of treasure, the days of his youth,When his lord bade welcome to wassail and feast.But gone is that gladness, and never againShall come the loved counsel of comrade and king.Even in slumber his sorrow assaileth,35And, dreaming, he claspeth his dear lord again,Head on knee, hand on knee, loyally laying,Pledging his liege as in days long past.Then from his slumber he starts lonely-hearted,Beholding gray stretches of tossing sea,40Sea-birds bathing, with wings outspread,While hail-storms darken, and driving snow.Bitter then is the bane of his wretchedness,The longing for loved one; his grief is renewed.The forms of his kinsmen take shape in the silence;45° The large public room where a king or chieftain dispensed food and drink to the warriors who served him. Mead is a fermented beverage with a honey base.
2In rapture he greets them; in gladness he scansOld comrades remembered.But they melt into airWith no word of greeting to gladden his heart.Then again surges his sorrow upon him;And grimly he spurs on his weary soul 50Once more to the toil of the tossing sea.No wonder therefore, in all the world,If shadow darkens upon my spiritWhen I reflect on the fates of men—How one by one proud warriors vanish 55From the halls that knew them, and day by dayAll this earth ages and droops unto death.No man may know wisdom till many a winterHas been his portion.A wise man is patient,Not swift to anger, nor hasty of speech,60Neither too weak, nor too reckless, in war,Neither fearful nor fain, nor too wishful of wealth,Nor too eager in vow—ere he know the event.A brave man must bide when he speaketh his boastUntil he knows surely the goal of his spirit.65A wise man will ponder how dread is that doomWhen all this world’s wealth shall be scattered and waste—As now, over all, through the regions of earth,Walls stand rime-covered and swept by the winds.The battlements crumble, the wine-halls decay;70Joyless and silent the heroes are sleepingWhere the proud host fell by the wall they defended.Some,battle launched on their long, last journey;One,a bird bore o’er the billowing sea;One,the gray wolf slew; one,a grieving earl75Sadly gave to the grave’s embrace.The Warden of men hath wasted this worldTill the sound of music and revel is stilled,And these giant-built structures stand empty of life.He who shall muse on these mouldering ruins,80And deeply ponder this darkling life,Must brood on old legends of battle and bloodshed,And heavy the mood that troubles his heart:Where now is the warrior?Where is the war-horse?Bestowal of treasure, and sharing of feast?85Alas! the bright ale-cup, and byrny-cladThe prince in his splendor—those days are long spedIn the night of the past, as if they never had been!And now remains only, for warriors’memorial,A wall wondrous high with serpent shapes carved.90Storms of ash-spears have smitten the earls,Carnage of weapon, and conquering Fate.Storms now batter these ramparts of stone;Blowing snow and the blast of winter° Wearing a coat of iron mail.
Enfold the earth; night-shadows fall95Darkly lowering, from the north drivingRaging hail in wrath upon men.Wretchedness fills the realm of earth,And Fate’s decrees transform the world.Here wealth is fleeting, friends are fleeting,100Man is fleeting, maid is fleeting;All the foundation of earth shall fail!”Thus spake the sage in solitude pondering.Good man is he who guardeth his faith.He must never too quickly unburden his breast105Of its sorrow, but eagerly strive for redress;And happy the man who seeketh for mercyFrom his heavenly Father, our Fortress and Strength.Analytical questions1.Describe the relative importance of pagan and Christian elements in this poem.Which are most important?2.Describe the theme of permanence, which is central to Kenneth Clark’s film, as it is reflected in “The Wanderer.”
Factual reading questions1.Where do we see the wanderer “toiling”as the poem opens? (lines 1-4)2.From what did the Wanderer flee? (5)
3.Of what is the Wanderer “mindful”most specifically? (6-7)4.What did the Wanderer do when his lord died? (22)5.When his “friends are no more,”what is the Wanderer’s fortune? (28)6.He “dreams of the hallmen, /The dealing of treasure”;of what specific gestures of pledging loyalty to his lord does he dream? (37)7.When he awakes, “lonely-hearted,”what is the weather? (42)8.What forms then take shape in his hallucinations? (45)9.Where did “the proud host”fall? (72)10.What does “their long, last journey”symbolize? (73)11.Who is “The Warden of men”? (77)12.How is the “wondrous high”wall decorated? (90)13.With what were the earls (his fellow warriors) “smitten”? (91)14.What are the things that are “fleeting”? (100-102)15.In what, therefore, should man find solace? (107-108)
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