Page:King Alfred's Version of the Consolations of Boethius.djvu/258



Moved from their courses    by the might of a man.

Who now is aware    of wise Weland's bones,

In what barrow lying    they litter the ground?

Where is the senator    so mighty of Rome,

The bold champion    of whom we chant,

Head of their army,    he that the name

Amid the burghers,    of Brutus bore?

Where is the wise one    that wished for fame,

The people's shepherd,    steadfast of purpose,

That was a sage in    each thing several,

Keen and the cunning,    Cato was called?

Many long days ago    these men departed;

No man knows    now where they be.

What is left of them    but their fame alone?

Too slight is the glory    of such teachers.

For they were worthy,    were those heroes,

Of more in the world. But worse it is now,

When over the earth,    in every quarter,

They and those like them    are little spoken of,

And some not a few    are clean forgotten,

And their fame cannot    keep them longer

Known to all men,    noble heroes.

Though you now deem,    desire strongly,

That long in the land    your life may last,

How ever the better    can you be or seem?

For Death no man leaves,    though long it seem,

His life-days told,    if the Lord it allows.

But what profit    does a mortal possess

In this world's glory,    if he be gripped

By death everlasting    after this life?