THE GIANT GWRVELING FALLS AT LAST

[The bard tells the story of Gwrveling’s revelry, impulsive bravery, and final slaughter of the foe before yielding to their prowess.]

     Light of lights—­the sun,
       Leader of the day,
     First to rise and run
       His appointed way,
     Crowned with many a ray,
       Seeks the British sky;
     Sees the flight’s dismay,
       Sees the Britons fly. 
     The horn in Eiddin’s hall
       Had sparkled with the wine,
     And thither, at a call
       To drink and be divine,
     He went, to share the feast
       Of reapers, wine and mead. 
     He drank, and so increased
       His daring for wild deed. 
     The reapers sang of war
       That lifts its shining wings,
       Its shining wings of fire,
     Its shields that flutter far. 
     The bards, too, sang of war,
     Of plumed and crested war;
     The song rose ever higher. 
         Not a shield
       Escapes the shock,
         To the field
       They fiercely flock,—­
         There to fall. 
         But of all
     Who struck on giant Gwrveling,
     Whom he would he struck again,
     All he struck in grave were lain,
     Ere the bearers came to bring
     To his grave stout Gwrveling.

ANGLO-SAXON LITERATURE

BY ROBERT SHARP

The earliest recorded utterances of a race, whether in poetry or in prose, become to the representatives of this race in later days a treasure beyond price.  The value of such monuments of the remote past is manifold.  In them we first begin to become really acquainted with ancestors of the people of to-day, even though we may have read in the pages of earlier writers of alien descent much that is of great concurrent interest.  Through the medium of the native saga, epic, and meagre chronicle, we see for the first time their real though dim outlines, moving in and out of the mists that obscure the dawn of history; and these outlines become more and more distinct as the literary remains of succeeding periods become more abundant and present more varied aspects of life.  We come gradually to know what manner of men and women were these ancestors, what in peace and in war were their customs, what their family and social relations, their food and drink, their dress, their systems of law and government, their religion and morals, what were their art instincts, what were their ideals.

This is essential material for the construction of history in its complete sense.  And this evidence, when subjected to judicious criticism, is trustworthy; for the ancient story-teller and poet reflects the customs and ideas and ideals of his own time, even though the combination of agencies and the preternatural proportions of the actors and their deeds belong to the imagination.  The historian must know how to supplement and to give life and interest to the colorless succession of dates, names, and events of the chronicler, by means of these imaginative yet truth-bearing creations of the poet.