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regret that he has sometimes allowed himself to take the second-best word instead of searching for the best. Theoretically, of course, one ought always to try for the best word. But practically, the habit of excessive care in word selection frequently results in loss of spontaneity; and, still worse, the habit of always taking the most ornate word, the word most removed from ordinary speech. In conse

Yet, just as in the effete French society be fore the Revolution the Queen played at Arcadia, the King played at being a mechanic every one played at simplicity and universul 5 philanthropy, leaving for most durable outcome of their philanthropy the guillotine, s the most durable outcome of ours may be execution by electricity;-so in our own 80ciety the talk of benevolence and the cult c

quence of this, poetic diction has become lat- 10 childhood are the very fashion of the hour

We, of this self-conscious, incredulous generation, sentimentalize our children, analyse our children, think we are endowed with a special capacity to sympathize and identify ourselves

terly a kaleidoscope, and one's chief curiosity is as to the precise combinations into which the pieces will be shifted. There is, in fact, a certain band of words, the Prætorian cohorts2 of poetry, whose prescriptive aid is invoked 15 with children; we play at being children. And by every aspirant to the poetical purple, and without whose prescriptive aid none dares aspire to the poetical purple; against these it is time some banner should be raised. Perhaps it is almost impossible for a contem- 20 porary writer quite to evade the services of the free-lances whom one encounters under so many standards. But it is at any rate curious to note that the literary revolution against the despotic diction of Pope seems 25 issuing, like political revolutions, in a despotism of its own making.

This, then, we cannot but think, distinguishes the literary period of Shelley from our

the result is that we are not more child-like, but our children are less child-like. It is so tiring to stoop to the child, so much easier to lift the child up to you. Know you what it is to be a child? It is to be something very different from the man of to-day. It is to have a spirit yet streaming from the waters of baptism; it is to believe in love, to believe in loveliness, to believe in belief, it is to be so little that the elves can reach to whisper in your ear; it is to turn pumpkins into coaches, and mice into horses, lowness into loftiness and nothing into everything, for each child has its fairy godmother in its own soul; it is

own. It distinguishes even the unquestionable 30 to live in a nutshell and to count yourself the

treasures and masterpieces of to-day from
similar treasures and masterpieces of the pre-
cedent day; even the Lotus-Eaters from Kubla-
Khan; even Rossetti's ballads from Christabel.
It is present in the restraint of Matthew Arnold 35
no less than in the exuberance of Swinburne,
and affects our writers who aim at simplicity
no less than those who seek richness. Indeed,
nothing is so artificial as our simplicity. It is
the simplicity of the French stage ingênue. 40
We are self-conscious to the finger-tips; and
this inherent quality, entailing on our poetry
the inevitable loss of spontaneity, ensures that
whatever poets, of whatever excellence, may
be born to us from the Shelleian stock, its 45
founder's spirit can take among us no rein-
carnation. An age that is ceasing to produce
child-like children cannot produce a Shelley.
For both as poet and man he was essentially
a child.

2i. e. this chosen band of words stands in the same relation to the aspirant for poetical distinction, as the Prætorian Cohort, or Guard (the special guard of the Roman emperors), stood to those who aspired to the imperial purple. The Prætorian Cohort, created by the Emperor Augustus for his especial use and protection, gained such power in later times that it made and deposed emperors at its pleasure.

king of infinite space; it is

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour;

It is to know not as yet that you are under sentence of life, nor petition that it be com muted into death. When we become conscious in dreaming that we dream, the dream is on the point of breaking; when we become conscious in living that we live, the ill dream is but just beginning. Now if Shelley was but too conscious of the dream, in other respects Dryden's false and famous lines might have been applied to him with very much less than its usual untruth. To the last, in a degree uncommon even among poets, the idiosyncrasy of childhood expanded and matured without 50 differentiation. To the last he was the echanted child.

"O God, I could be bounded in a nut-shell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams." Ham., II. ii. 250.

4 William Blake.

The line referred to is presumably:

"Great wits are sure to madness near allied." Absalom and Achitophel, 162.

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ofer þæm hongiað hrimge bearwas,

wudu wyrtum fæst, wæter oferhelmað.

ær mæg nihta gehwæm nið-wundor sēon, 1365 ŷr on flöde. No þæs frōd leofað

gumena bearna, þæt bone grund wite.

Deah be he8-stapa hundum geswenced, neorot hornum trum,

eorran geflymed, ldor on ōfre, afelan [hydan]. onon y-geblond von to wolcnum, að gewidru, 'oderas rēotað.

ft et þē ānum. récne stōwe,

holt-wudu sēce,

er he feorh seled,

1370

æer he in wille

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Nis þæt hēoru stów; up astigeð

bonne wind styreb dæt lyft drysmab, Nu is se red gelang Eard git ne const, dær þú findan miht

1375

PASTORAL

ALFRED'S PREFACE TO HIS TRANS-
LATION OF GREGORY'S
CARE

(Translated on p. 20)

Ælfred kyning hated gretan Wærferd biscep his wordum luflice ond freondlice; ond dẽ cỹ dan hāte dæt mê com swide oft on gemynd, hwelce wiotan iu waron giond Angelcynn, gder ge godcundra hada ge woruldcundra; ond hũ gesæliglica tida da wäeron giond Angelcynn; ond hu da kyningas de done onwald hæfdon Sæs folces on dãin dagum Gode ond his ærendwrecum hērsumedon; qnd hũ hĩe æg er ge hiora sibbe ge hiora siodo ge hiora onweald innanbordes gehīoldon, and eac ut hiora Sel gerymdon; qnd hữ him da spēow ægder ge mid wige ge mid wisdōme; ond eac da godcundan hadas hū giorne hie wæron æg der ge ymb lare ge ymb liornunga, ge ymb ealle da diowotdomas de hie Gode don

scoldon; ond hu man utanbordes wisdom ond läre hieder on lond sōhte, ond hū we hie nū sceoldon ute begietan, gif we hie habban sceoldon. Swæ clane hio was offeallenu on Angelcynne Sæt swide feawa waeron behionan Humbre de hiora deninga cũden understondan on Englisc o de furðum ăn ærendgewrit of Ladene on Englisc aręccean; ond ic wene dætte Swä noht monige begiondan Humbre næren. feawa hiora waron Sæt ic furðum ānne ānlēpne ne mæg gedencean be suðan Temese, da dã ic to rice fêng. Gode ælmihtegum sie donc dætte wē nu ænigne onstāl habbað lārēowa. Qnd for don ic de bebiode det du dō swae ic geliefe dæt du wille, dæt du dē dissa woruldðinga tō dæm geametige, swae dū oftost mæge, dæt du done wisdōm de de God sealde där där du hiene befæstan mæge, befæste. Gedenc hwelc witu ūs dā becomon for Jisse worulde, đã đã we hit nohwder ně selfe ne lufodon, nē eac öðrum monnum ne lefdon one naman anne we lufodon dætte wē Cristne wæron, înd swiðe feawe dã dēawas.

:

THE ANGLO-SAXON CHRONICLE, 1087

(Translated on p. 44)

Gif hwa gewilniged to gewitane hū ge don mann he was, odde hwilene wurdscipe he hæfde, o de hu fela lande he wære hläford, donne wille we be him awrītan swã swa wē hine āgeaton de him locodan and ōöre hwile on his hirēde wunedon. Se cyng Willelm be wē embe specað wæs swide wis man and swide rīce, and wurdfulre and strengere donne ænig his foregenga wære. He was milde pām gōdum mannum þe God lufedon, and ofer eall gemett stearc þam mannum be widewadon his willan. On dam ilcan steode pe God him geu de þæt he mōste Engleland gegan, he ārērde mære mynster and munecas þær gesætte and wæll gegōdade. On his dagan was þæt mære mynster on Cantwarbyrig getymbrad and eac swide manig ōder ofer eall Englaland. Eac þis land was swide afylled mid munecan and þã leofodan heora lif æfter ses Benedictus regule, and sẽ Xpendom was swilc on his dæge bæt alc man hwæt his hāde to belumpe folgade sẽ be wolde.

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Wel late ic habbe me bipoht, bûte me God milce.

Fele ydele word ic habbe iqueden, syöden ic spe сифе,

And fale junge dede idō þet mē ofþinchet nūje.

ORMULUM

(Modernized on p. 28)

Nu brōperr Wallterr, brōperr min
affterr þē flashess kinde,
annd brōperr min i Crisstenndom

þurrh fulluhht and þurrh trowwe, annd brōþerr min i Godess hūs

zēt ō þē pridde wise, burrh batt witt hafenn takenn bā an rezhellbōc to follзhenn, unnderr kanunnkess had annd lif

swa summ Sannt Awwstin sette; icc hafe dōn swa summ þũ badd

annd fōrbedd të bin wille, icc hafe wennd inntill Ennglissh goddspelless hall3he lāre, affterr þatt little witt þatt me

min Drihhtin hafebb lēned. Du bohhtesst tatt itt mihhte wēl till mikell frame turrnenn, 3iff Ennglissh follc, forr lufe off Crist, itt wollde zerne lernenn annd foll3henn itt and fillenn itt

wipp bohht, wibb word, wiþþ déde; annd forrbi зerrndesst tū þatt ice

biss werrc be shollde wirrkenn, annd icc itt hafe förpedd të,

acc all þurrh Cristess hellpe.

DEBATE OF THE BODY AND THE SOUL (Modernized on p. 30)

Als I lay in a winteris ny3t
In a droupening biför þẽ day,
Forsōbe I sau a sellý sy3t,

A body on a bēre lay,
Dat havede ben a modỹ knyt
And litel served God to pay;
Lōren he haved bē līves ly3t,

De gost was oute and scholde away.

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5

Ɖou þat were woned to ride

Heyse on horse in and out,

So kweynte knit ikūð só̟ wide, As a lyon fērs and proud,

3

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Spellunge and smecchunge beod ine mude bode ase sihoe is i den eien; auh we schullen leten smecchunge vort tet we speken of ower mete, and speken nú of spellunge and terefter of herrunge, of bo imene sume cherre ase goo tōgederes.

On alre erest hwon 3ē schulen tō oure parlûres burle, iwited et ower meiden hwo hit beo pet is cumen, vor swuch hit mei bēon þet zē schulen asunien ou; and hwon 3ē alles mōten vorð, ereoiseð ful 3ēorne our muð, garen, and eien, and tē brēoste êke, and goð forð mid Godes drēde ō prēoste. On erest sigged 'confiteor,' and erefter benedicite'; bet he ouh tō siggen, ercned his wōrdes and sitteð al stille bet, hwon e parteð vrom ou, bet he ne cunne ower gōd e ower uvel nouder, ne he ne cunne ou nouðer lamen ne preisen. Sum is so wel ilered oder e wis iwōrded pet heo wolde bet he wuste hit be it and spęked touward him and zelt him wōrd -3ein word, and bicumeð meister be schulde beon -ncre, leared him bet is icumen to leren hire; wolde bi hire tale sōne beon mit te wise icūd nd icnowen. Icnowen heo is wēl, vor þurh þet ke pet hẽo wêned to beon wīs ihōlden hẽ unerstont þet heo is sot, vor heo hunted efter pris nd keccheð lastunge. Vor et te laste hwon hē siwend awei, ‘Đēos ancre,' hē wule siggen, 'is f muchele spęche.'

ALYSOUN

(Modernized on p. 42)

Bytuene Mersh ant Averil,

When spray biginneth to springe,

The lutel foul hath hire wyl
On hyre lud to synge.

Ich libbe in love-longinge
For semlokest of alle thinge;
He may me blisse bringe;
Icham in hire baundoun.

An hendy hap ichabbe yhent; Ichot from hevene it is me sent; From alle wymmen mi love is lent Ant lyht on Alysoun.

On heu hire her is fayr ynoh,

Hire browe broune, hire eye blake; With lossum chere he on me loh, With middel smal ant wel ymake. Bote he me wolle to hire take, Forte buen hire owen make, Longe to lyven ichulle forsake, Ant feye fallen adoun.

Nihtes when I wende ant wake,
Forthi myn wonges waxeth won.
Levedi, al for thine sake

Longinge is ylent me on.

In world nis non so wytermon,
That al hire bounte telle con.

Hire swyre is whittore then the swon Ant feyrest may in toune.

Icham for wowing al forwake,

Wery so water in wore.
Lest eny reve me my make,
Ichabbe y-yerned yore.
Betere is tholien whyle sore,
Then mournen evermore.
Geynest under gore,
Herkne to my roun.

An hendy hap ichabbe yhent; Ichot from hevene it is me sent; From alle wymmen mi love is lent Ant lyht on Alysoun.

BARBOUR'S BRUCE
(Modernized on p. 55)

A fredome is a noble thing!
Fredome mayss man to haiff liking;
Fredome all solace to man giffis :
He levys at ess that frely levys!
A noble hart may haiff nane ess,
Na ellys nocht that may him pless,
Gyff fredome fail3he; for fre liking
Is harnyt our all othir thing.
Na he, that ay hass levyt fre,
May nocht knaw weill the propyrte,
The angyr, na the wrechyt dome,
That is cowplyt to foule thyrldome.
Bot gyff he had assay it it,

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240

Thus contrar thingis euir-mar

Discoweryngis off the tothir ar.

THE PEARL

(Modernized on p. 55)
I

Perle plesaunte to Prynces paye,
To clanly clos in golde so clere !
Oute of Oryent, I hardyly saye,
Ne proued I neuer her precios pere,
So rounde, so reken in vche araye,
So smal, so smope her syde; were.
Queresoeuer I jugged gemmez gaye,
I sette hyr sengeley in syngulere.
Allas! I leste hyr in on erbere ;
Dur3 gresse to grounde hit fro me yot.
I dewyne, fordolked, of luf-daungere,
Of bat pryuy perle wythouten spot.

5

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After be sesoun of somer wyth þe soft wynde},
Quen zerferus syfle3 hym-self on sedez & erbez,
Wela-wynne is be wort þat woxes ber-oute,
When be donkande dewe dropez of þe leue},
To bide a blysful blusch of þe bryst sunne.
Bot þen hyzes heruest, & hardenes hym sone,
Warnes hym for þe wynter to wax ful rype;
He dryues wyth droзt be dust for to ryse,
Fro be face of the folde to flyze ful hyze;
Wrope wynde of be welkyn wrastele; with be

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In A somer sesun

whon softe was be sonne, I schop me in-to a schroud A scheep as I were In Habite of an Hermite vn-holy of werkes. Wende I wydene in þis world wondres to here. Bote in a Mayes Morwnynge on Maluer

hulles

Me bi-fel a ferly A Feyrie me bouhte;
I was weori of wandringe and wente me :

reste

Vndur a brod banke bi a Bourne syde, And as I lay and leonede and lokede on k watres,

I slumberde in A slepyng hit sownede so murie Denne gon I Meeten A Meruelous swenene, u

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