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

I will with songs make known
How the Almighty still
Bridles all things from his throne
And bends them to his will,
By His wielded might
Set wonderfully right.

The Ruler of the skies
Hath well girt all things so,
Binding them in such strong ties
Aside they cannot go,
And may not find the way
Whereby to slip astray.

And each living thing
On this crowded earth
Firmly to the bent doth cling
Which it had at birth
From the Father's hand
King of angel-land:

Thus each one we find
Of beings in their turn,
Save some bad angels and mankind,
Thitherward doth yearn;
But those too often force
Against their nature's course.

A lioness may be such
A tame and winsome beast,
That she may love her master much
Or fear him at the least;
But if she taste of gore
She will be tame no more:

Let it not be thought
That she will then be mild,
But back to her old likings brought
Be as her elders wild,
In ernest break her chain
And rave and roar amain;

Will first her keeper bite,
And then all else beside,
Cattle or men, each living wight,
Will seize, whate'er betide,
All she can find will seize,
Her ravening to appease.

So the wood finches too
Though timely tamed they be,
If to the woods escaped anew
Again they flutter free,
However train'd and taught
Their teachers then are nought:

But wilder evermore
They will not leave the wood,
Though by their trainers, as of yore,
Enticed by tempting food;
So merry seem the trees
That meats no more may please.

All winsome then is found
The wide weald sounding strong
With other birds that sing around,
And so, these find their song,
Stunning one's ears with noise
Of their woodland joys.

Thus too, every tree,
Grown high in its own soil,
Though thou shalt bend its boughs to be
Bow'd to the earth with toil,
Let go, it upward flies
At its free will to rise.

Thus also, when the sun,
Great candle of the world,
After the mid-day down doth run
To unknown darkness hurl'd,
Again she brings to earth
Bright morn's North Eastern birth.

Upward, she ever goes,
Up, to her highest place:
So, every creature kindly grows
According to its race,
And strives with all its might
To take its nature's right.

There is not now one thing
Over this wide earth
That doth not all its longings fling
About its place of birth,
And safely there find rest
In God Almighty blest.

There is not one thing found
Over this wide world
But on itself with endless round
It, like a wheel, is twirl'd,
So turning to be seen
As it before hath been:

For, when at first it moves,
Right round it turns amain;
And, where it once has gone, behoves
To go that way again;
And, as it was before,
To be so evermore.