Forgotten Ground Regained
Dream of the Rood
translated from the Old English by William G. Carpenter
Hear me give word to the worthiest dreamthat came to me towards midmost night,when banqueters were all abed.In thought I traced the truest tree,lifting aloft, and looped with light,brightest of boles, the whole beaconbathed in bullion. Brooches abounded,lovely on earthlands; of such like fivewere cut in the cross-piece. Those who by decreewere fair forever beheld the Lord’s herald;it was, in fact, no felon’s gallows,but wholesome ghosts, and men above ground,and all glorious creation gazed .
Stunning that trophy, I stained with sins,gored in my grossness. I saw glory’s gageenshrined in its sheathing, ashimmer with blisses,and garbed in gilt; glimmering baublesrichly arrayed the Ruler’s rafter.Yet under gold, I was able to glimpseWretches’ old toil that roused a sweatin its right side; I was roiled with sorrow,alarmed for the loveliness. The live signchanged color and clothing, now was allawash with wet, gushing with gore,now graced with glitter. Still lying a while,I stared, stricken, at the Savior’s standard,until I heard it unhinge its hoard.The best of spars began to speak:
In years of yore, yet borne in mind,hewn down I was at the holtwood’s foot,steered from my stem. Strong foemen took me,shaped me their staringstock for stretching scoundrels.The hands humped me high on the height,and there footed me, no few foes.I saw men’s Sovereign strive to scale me;I durst not scant the Savior’s hestby bending or breaking, though I saw it bobble,the earth in its bounds. Able I wasto slaughter all, but stood stock-still.The green Redeemer -- God almighty --stripped and stoutly sprang up the gallows,a marvel, bold-minded, when He freed mankind.I shook when the Soldier seized me in arms,nor dared humble my height to earth,incline to its quarters; I was called to hold fast.A rood I was reared; I upraised the King,the heavens’ Headman, nor heeled over.With dreary pins they pierced my parts;yet seen the sores, the unsealed lesions.Nor dared I mangle any men.T hey blasphemed us both; I was boltered in blood
that flooded from His open flankafter the Groom sent forth His ghost.I much endured on that high down,inhuman haps, saw heaven’s Lorddirely drawn. Darkness veiledthe Maker’s dust, His dazzling sheen,in somber cover; the shadow spread,obscu re und er stormclouds. Creation sobbed,bewept the King’s fall: Christ was across.
Yet there the faithful fared from afarto seek their Sovereign; I saw it all.Though soiled with sorrows, I stooped to those soldiers.Meek-minded, manly, dismounting their Chief,they raised him from labor, though me they leftto stew in cruor, stuck through with shafts.They laid out the weary One, watched at His head,beheld heaven’s Lord, how He halted a while,weak from warfare. They wrought a barrow,His men by His bane, hewed the bright stone,and lodged therein their victory-leader;they commenced to sound their song of sorrow,aching at eventide. Then would they set out,spent from the splendid One; He stayed with His squadron.Yet we, weeping a goodly while,stood at our station after it ceased,the warriors’ cry. The corpus cooled,the lovely life-housing. Then men leveled usdown to the ground, a gruesome end;they scooped a trench, but the Savior’s thanes,His bosom friends, unburied me
\and girded me in gold and silver.
Now you may hear, beloved hero,how I abided baleworkers’ toiland sore sorrows. The season is comewhen men above ground and glorious creationpay worship to me, from far and widebeseeching this spire. On me, the Sonsuffered a spell; so I, now stately,stand under heaven, have strength to healall whoever hold me in awe.Of old I was formed for fiercest torture,most foul to folk, before I fetched them,heroes in hall, the highway to life.Hear how He hallowed me, the Head of glory,Warden of heaven, above all wood,as He magnified His mother, Mary,for the good of men, over all womankind.Now I command, dear hero of mine,that you describe this sight to men,ungarb in words how God almightyHis torment bore on this bright boomfor men’s misdeeds and old Adam’s doings.Death He endured; the Redeemer rosewith matchless might to succor men.He leapt to Heaven, will head hereafterto this middle world to seek out mankindat dayspring of doomsday, the Savior himself,almighty God amid His angels,when He wants to judge -- for judgment is His --everyone whomever as he has earned
aforetimes here in this fleeting life.Nor can anyone stand unafraidbefore the sentence the Chieftain speaks:He will ask the many where the man might bewho for God’s name will death undergo,as He on that pile once expired.Then they will fear, and few will fathomwhat to say to answer the Savior.But on that day no one need dreadwho bore on his breast the blessed ensign,but over this sill every soul soeverthat longs to lodge with the Lord our Godshall reach the region beyond earth’s round.
I prayed to that pillar, pleasant in spirit,with ample ardor once I was alonewith my small band; then my soulpressed on in its journey, underwent muchin seasons of longing. Now my life’s joyis that I entreat that trunk of triumph,one more often than other men,and worship well. My will for thisfulfills my mind; and my defenseis fixed on that beam. I have few fearsomeallies in earthlands, for they have gone onwardsfrom this world’s goods. They sought glory’s King,they live in heaven; on high with the Father,they dwell in splendor. And I have in spiritthat day whenever the Word’s timber,which here on earth I once beheld,might fetch me from this fleeting life
and billet me where bliss abounds,where the Savior’s people sit down to supper,and then will set me where I thenceforthmay dwell in glory and relish wellthat wholesome mirth. May the Hero befriend me,He who on earth in old timesgroaned on the gallowstree for the guilt of men;He unloosed us and allotted us life,a freehold in heaven. Hope was made new,with blessings and bliss, for them that bore burning.The Offspring prospered on that campaign,mighty and thriving, when He led His throng,the host of souls, to the Holy One’s realm,the powerful Ruler, to the rapture of angelsand all the saints who aforetimes in heavenresided in splendor, when their Sovereign returned,the Lord Most High, t o His own homeland.
Copyright © 2014 William G. Carpenter