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excerpts from "The Wanderer," an elegy from the Book of Exeter


"Always the one alone longs for the Maker's mildness, though troubled in mind, across the ocean-ways he has long been forced to stir with his hands the frost-cold sea and walk in exile's paths...
There is no one living to whom I would dare to reveal clearly my heart's thoughts...
Cares are renewed for the one who must send, over and over a weary heart across the binding waves. And so I cannot imagine for all this world why my spirit should not grow dark when I think through all this life of men, how they suddenly give up the hall floor the mighty young retainers. Thus this middle-earth droops and decays every single day; and so a man cannot become wise before he has weathered his share of winters in this world...
'Where has the horse gone? Where is the rider? Where is the giver of gold? Where are the seats of the feast? Where are the joys of the hall?...
All is toilsome in the earthly kingdom, the working of wyrd changes the world under heaven...
It will be well for the one who seeks mercy, consolation from the Father in heaven, where for us all stability stands."

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