King Alfred's Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Whoso wills to till a field,
Well to bear a fruitful yield,
Let him first pluck up and burn
Thorns and thistles, furze and fern,
Which are wont clean wheat to hurt
Lying lifeless in the dirt.

And this other likeness too
Well behoves us all to view,
Namely, that to those who eat
Honeycomb, it seems more sweet
If a man, before the tear
Of honey, taste of bitter cheer.

So, it falls that all men are
With fine weather happier far
If a little while before
Storms were spread the welkin o'er,
And the stark wind East by North
Lately rush'd in anger forth.

None would think the daylight dear
If dim night they did not fear;
So, to every one of us,
On the broad earth dwelling thus,
Joy more joyous still is seen
After troubles once have been.

Also, thine own mind to please,
Thou shalt gain the greater ease,
And shalt go where true joys grow
If all false joys thou forego,
As ill weeds are pull'd with toil
By the landchurl from the soil.

And hereafter, thee I tell,
True joys there await thee well;
Aye and here, if these be first,
Thou for nought beside wilt thirst,
But all else shall fail to please
If thou truly knowest these.