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5

I. Of Rome and Boethius.

Hit wæs geara iu
Thætte Gotan eastan
Of Sciththia
Sceldas læddon, &c.

It was long of yore
That the Gothic rout,
Forth from Scythia's eastern shore,
Led their shieldmen out,
Thronged with swarms of war
The lands of many a clan,
And in the South set firm and far
Two tribes to trouble man.
Yearly waxed and grew
Those Gothic kingdoms twain,
And Alaric and Rædgast too
Right royally did reign.
6

Then down the Alps the Goth
Made haste to force his way,
In haughty pride all fiercely wroth,
And lusting for the fray.
Their banner fluttered bright,
While all Italia through
Shot ruthless in their linden might
The shielded warrior crew,
Forth from the Alpine drifts
To great Sicilia's coast,
Where in the seastream it uplifts
Its lofty island boast.
Then Rome's old rule was crush'd,
Her costliness despoil'd,
And by that host, with battle flush'd,
The city's beauty soil'd.
Alaric and Rædgast
The fastness first they seek,
While Cæsar with his chiefs fled fast
For safety to the Greek.
Then could the wretched band,
Left mournfully behind,
No more the warring Goth withstand,
Nor much of mercy find.
7

Unwillingly their trust
The warders then gave up,
None to his oath was true and just;
And full was sorrow's cup.
Yet to the Greek outyearn'd
The people, as at first,
And for some daring leader burn'd,
To follow whom they durst.
The people wore their woes
Many a wintry year,
Till weird-ordain'd Theodric rose,
Whom thane and earl should hear.
To Christ the chief was born,
And water wash'd the king,
While all Rome's children blest the morn,
That peace with it should bring.
To Rome he vowed full fast
Her old-time rights to yield,
While God should grant his life to last,
The Gothic power to wield.
He did forswear all that:
The Atheling he lied,
To please Arius God forgat,
And falsely slipp'd aside.
8

He broke his plighted oath,
And, without right or ruth,
Good John the pope against all troth
Beheaded for the truth.
A shameful deed was there;
And heaps of other ill
Against the good this Goth did dare
In wickedness of will.
A man there was just set
For heretoch in Rome,
Loved by the lord whose bread he ate,
And dear to all at home:
Dear also to the Greek,
When he the town did save;
A righteous man, whom all would seek,
For many gifts he gave.
Long since was he full wise,
In worldly wit and lore,
Eager in worth and wealth to rise,
And skill'd on books to pore.
Boethius was he hight;
He ate shame's bitter bread,
And ever kept the scorn in sight
Outlandish kings had said.
9

He to the Greek was true,
And oft the old-rights told,
Which he and his forefathers too
From those had won of old.
Carefully then he plann'd
To bring the Greek to Rome,
That Cæsar in his rightful land
Again might reign at home.
In hidden haste he plied
With letters all the lords,
And prayed them by the Lord who died
To heed his ernest words.
Greece should give laws to Rome,
And Rome should Greece obey;
The people longed to let them come
To drive the Goth away.
But lo! the Amuling
Theodric found out all,
And bade his fellows seize and bring
This highborn chief in thrall.
He feared that good earl well,
And straightly bade them bind
Boethius in the prison-cell,
Sore troubled in his mind.
10

Ah! he had basked so long
Beneath a summer sky,
Ill could he bear such load of wrong,
So heavy did it lie.
Then was he full of woe,
Nor heeded honour more;
Reckless he flung himself below
Upon the dungeon floor;
Much mourning, there he lay,
Nor thought to break his chains,
But to the Lord by night and day
Sang thus in sighing strains.
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