Anonymous Olde English

Anonymous Olde English Poems

121. Mermaid I 4/7/2010
122. Mermaid Song Iv 4/7/2010
123. My Heart Is High Above 4/7/2010
124. My Love In Her Attire 4/7/2010
125. Northumberland Betrayed By Douglas 4/7/2010
126. Not Marke, But Mercurie Keepes Her Warme 4/7/2010
127. Of A Rose, A Lovely Rose, Of A Rose Is Al Myn Song 4/7/2010
128. Old Robin Of Portingale 4/7/2010
129. On The Death Of K. Edward The First 4/7/2010
130. Our Lady's Song 4/7/2010
131. Pearl 4/7/2010
132. Plain Truth And Blind Ignorance 4/7/2010
133. Queen Eleanor's Confession 4/7/2010
134. Quia Amore Langeuo 4/7/2010
135. Richard Of Almaigne 4/7/2010
136. Rise, Oh My Soul, With Thy Desires To Heaven 4/7/2010
137. Robin Hood And Guy Of Gisborne 4/7/2010
138. Robin Hood And The Monk 4/7/2010
139. Robin Hood And The Potter 4/7/2010
140. Robin Hood And The Prince Of Aragon 4/7/2010
141. Roome Is A Taker, Poets Say 4/7/2010
142. Sir Aldingar 4/7/2010
143. Sir Andrew Barton 4/7/2010
144. Sir Cauline 4/7/2010
145. Sir Lancelot Du Lake 4/7/2010
146. Sir Orfeo 4/7/2010
147. Spring-Tide 4/7/2010
148. St. George And The Dragon 4/7/2010
149. The Assembly Of Ladies 4/7/2010
150. The Avowyng Of Arthur 4/7/2010
151. The Baffled Knight, Or Lady's Policy 4/7/2010
152. The Battle Of Harlaw 4/7/2010
153. The Battle Of Otterburn 4/7/2010
154. The Beggar's Daughter Of Bednall-Green 4/7/2010
155. The Birch Trees 4/7/2010
156. The Bookworm 4/7/2010
157. The Boy And The Mantle 4/7/2010
158. The Braes O' Yarrow 4/7/2010
159. The Burning Of Paules 4/7/2010
160. The Child Of Elle 4/7/2010
Best Poem of Anonymous Olde English

Edward, Edward. A Scottish Ballad

MODERN TRANSLATION (original below)

'Why does your sword so drip with blood,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your sword so drip with blood?
And why so sad are ye, O?'
'O, I have killed my hawk so good,
Mother, mother:
O I have killed my hawk so good:
And I had no more but he, O.'

'Your hawk's blood was never so red,
Edward, Edward:
Your hawk’s blood was never so red,
My dear son I tell thee, O.'
'O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
That once was so fair and free, O.'

'Your steed was ...

Read the full of Edward, Edward. A Scottish Ballad

Beowulf (The Prelude)


LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:

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