Page:King Alfred's Version of the Consolations of Boethius.djvu/245

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Can I torn so featly,though many tales Once I wove,when I was happy. Oft now I find notthe words familiar, I that in old timesoft made strange ones. Me, wellnigh blind,have these worldly blessings Drawn in my follyto this dim cavern, And robbed me entirelyof reason and comfort With their false faith,when I had fain ever To them trusted.To me they have turned Their backs, oh! cruelly,and kept joy from me. Ah! why were ye minded,my friends of this world, In speech or in songto say I was happy Here in this world?The words are not true ones, For worldly blessingsabide not always.

Ah! it is fearfuland fathomless deep. The mirky pitwhere the mind toileth. When the blasts of tempestsbeat against it Of worldly afflictions;then in its fighting Its own true lightit leaveth behind it, And in woe forgetteththe weal eternal. It dasheth onwardinto this world's darkness, Weary with sorrows.So hath it now This soul befallen,for now it nought knoweth Of good before God,but great grief From the world unfriendly;it wanteth comfort. O Thou