(lines 1- 5)
Who liveth alone longeth for mercy,
Maker's mercy. Though he must traverse
Tracts of sea, sick at heart,
- Trouble with oars ice-cold waters,
The ways of exile - Weird is set fast.
Thus spoke such a 'grasshopper', old griefs in his mind,
Cold slaughters, the death of dear kinsmen:
(line 7- 14)
'Alone am I driven each day before daybreak
To give my cares utterance.
None are there now among the living
To whom I dare declare me throughly,
Tell my heart's thought. Too truly I know
It is in a man no mean virtue
That he keep close his heart's chest,
Hold his thought-hoard, think as he may.
No weary mind may stand against Weird
Nor may a wrecked will work new hope;
Wherefore, most often, those eager for fame
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|Manuscript 1a||Type Set 1a||Poetry 1a||Trans. 1 1a||Trans. 2 1a||Trans. 3 1a|