THE GRAVE[Text used: Kluge,Angelsächsisches Lesebuch, reprinted from Arnold Schroeer,Anglia, v, 289.Translation: Longfellow. Discussion of this translation inArchiv für das Studium der neueren Sprache, xxix, 205.It is probably the latest in date of any of the Anglo-Saxon poems.]Before thou wast born,there was built thee a house;For thee was a mould meantere thy mother bore thee;They have not made it readynor reckoned its depth;No one has yet learnedhow long it shall be.5I point out thy pathto the place thou shalt be;Now I shall measure thee,and the mould afterwards.Thy house is nothighly timbered.It is unhigh and low;when thou lyest therein,The bottom and side boardsshall bind thee near:10Close above thy breastis builded the roof.Thou shalt dwell full coldin the clammy earth.Full dim and dismalthat den is to live in.Doorless is that house,and is dark within;Down art thou held thereand death hath the key.15Loathly is that house of earthand horrid to live in.There thou shalt tarryand be torn by worms.Thus thou art laid,and leavest thy friends;Thou hast never a comradewho will come to thee,Who will hasten to lookhow thou likest thy house.20Or ever will undothy door for thee..  . . . . . . .and after thee descend;For soon thou art loathsomeand unlovely to see:From the crown of thy headshall the hair be lost;Thy locks shall falland lose their freshness;25No longer is it fairfor the fingers to stroke.
THE GRAVE[Text used: Kluge,Angelsächsisches Lesebuch, reprinted from Arnold Schroeer,Anglia, v, 289.Translation: Longfellow. Discussion of this translation inArchiv für das Studium der neueren Sprache, xxix, 205.It is probably the latest in date of any of the Anglo-Saxon poems.]Before thou wast born,there was built thee a house;For thee was a mould meantere thy mother bore thee;They have not made it readynor reckoned its depth;No one has yet learnedhow long it shall be.5I point out thy pathto the place thou shalt be;Now I shall measure thee,and the mould afterwards.Thy house is nothighly timbered.It is unhigh and low;when thou lyest therein,The bottom and side boardsshall bind thee near:10Close above thy breastis builded the roof.Thou shalt dwell full coldin the clammy earth.Full dim and dismalthat den is to live in.Doorless is that house,and is dark within;Down art thou held thereand death hath the key.15Loathly is that house of earthand horrid to live in.There thou shalt tarryand be torn by worms.Thus thou art laid,and leavest thy friends;Thou hast never a comradewho will come to thee,Who will hasten to lookhow thou likest thy house.20Or ever will undothy door for thee..  . . . . . . .and after thee descend;For soon thou art loathsomeand unlovely to see:From the crown of thy headshall the hair be lost;Thy locks shall falland lose their freshness;25No longer is it fairfor the fingers to stroke.
THE GRAVE[Text used: Kluge,Angelsächsisches Lesebuch, reprinted from Arnold Schroeer,Anglia, v, 289.Translation: Longfellow. Discussion of this translation inArchiv für das Studium der neueren Sprache, xxix, 205.It is probably the latest in date of any of the Anglo-Saxon poems.]Before thou wast born,there was built thee a house;For thee was a mould meantere thy mother bore thee;They have not made it readynor reckoned its depth;No one has yet learnedhow long it shall be.5I point out thy pathto the place thou shalt be;Now I shall measure thee,and the mould afterwards.Thy house is nothighly timbered.It is unhigh and low;when thou lyest therein,The bottom and side boardsshall bind thee near:10Close above thy breastis builded the roof.Thou shalt dwell full coldin the clammy earth.Full dim and dismalthat den is to live in.Doorless is that house,and is dark within;Down art thou held thereand death hath the key.15Loathly is that house of earthand horrid to live in.There thou shalt tarryand be torn by worms.Thus thou art laid,and leavest thy friends;Thou hast never a comradewho will come to thee,Who will hasten to lookhow thou likest thy house.20Or ever will undothy door for thee..  . . . . . . .and after thee descend;For soon thou art loathsomeand unlovely to see:From the crown of thy headshall the hair be lost;Thy locks shall falland lose their freshness;25No longer is it fairfor the fingers to stroke.
[Text used: Kluge,Angelsächsisches Lesebuch, reprinted from Arnold Schroeer,Anglia, v, 289.Translation: Longfellow. Discussion of this translation inArchiv für das Studium der neueren Sprache, xxix, 205.It is probably the latest in date of any of the Anglo-Saxon poems.]
[Text used: Kluge,Angelsächsisches Lesebuch, reprinted from Arnold Schroeer,Anglia, v, 289.
Translation: Longfellow. Discussion of this translation inArchiv für das Studium der neueren Sprache, xxix, 205.
It is probably the latest in date of any of the Anglo-Saxon poems.]
Before thou wast born,there was built thee a house;For thee was a mould meantere thy mother bore thee;They have not made it readynor reckoned its depth;No one has yet learnedhow long it shall be.5I point out thy pathto the place thou shalt be;Now I shall measure thee,and the mould afterwards.Thy house is nothighly timbered.It is unhigh and low;when thou lyest therein,The bottom and side boardsshall bind thee near:10Close above thy breastis builded the roof.Thou shalt dwell full coldin the clammy earth.Full dim and dismalthat den is to live in.Doorless is that house,and is dark within;Down art thou held thereand death hath the key.15Loathly is that house of earthand horrid to live in.There thou shalt tarryand be torn by worms.Thus thou art laid,and leavest thy friends;Thou hast never a comradewho will come to thee,Who will hasten to lookhow thou likest thy house.20Or ever will undothy door for thee..  . . . . . . .and after thee descend;For soon thou art loathsomeand unlovely to see:From the crown of thy headshall the hair be lost;Thy locks shall falland lose their freshness;25No longer is it fairfor the fingers to stroke.
Before thou wast born,there was built thee a house;
For thee was a mould meantere thy mother bore thee;
They have not made it readynor reckoned its depth;
No one has yet learnedhow long it shall be.
5I point out thy pathto the place thou shalt be;
Now I shall measure thee,and the mould afterwards.
Thy house is nothighly timbered.
It is unhigh and low;when thou lyest therein,
The bottom and side boardsshall bind thee near:
10Close above thy breastis builded the roof.
Thou shalt dwell full coldin the clammy earth.
Full dim and dismalthat den is to live in.
Doorless is that house,and is dark within;
Down art thou held thereand death hath the key.
15Loathly is that house of earthand horrid to live in.
There thou shalt tarryand be torn by worms.
Thus thou art laid,and leavest thy friends;
Thou hast never a comradewho will come to thee,
Who will hasten to lookhow thou likest thy house.
20Or ever will undothy door for thee.
.  . . . . . . .and after thee descend;
For soon thou art loathsomeand unlovely to see:
From the crown of thy headshall the hair be lost;
Thy locks shall falland lose their freshness;
25No longer is it fairfor the fingers to stroke.