Force drove him
Out of the land. Now hath he bidden me
Earnestly to urge thee to sail the sea
When thou hast heard on the brow of the hill
The mournful cuckoo call in the wood.
Then let no living man keep thee
From the journey, or hinder thy going.
Betake thee to the sea, the home of the mew,
Seat thee in the boat, that southward from here
Beyond the road of the sea thou mayest find the man
Where waits thy prince in hope of thee.

We hope the lady betook herself to the sea-mew's home, and found her
beloved at the end of the journey! Her beloved had no thought of any
greater joy than the granting of Almighty God that together they should
be givers of treasure to men. The beloved has enough of beaten gold and
wealth, and a fair home among the strangers, the noble warriors that
obey him. Banished from home, gone forth a homeless one, in the
stranger-land good has come to him; he has no lack of anything but of
her, who had with him come under an old threat, and had been parted from
him. He vows to fulfil his pledge and love-troth, and he writes in runes
some message, which she, as it appears, would understand, and she alone.

The old, old story, written fair and full.

You will have noticed in the literature we have been considering the
absence of certain elements which are an integral part of our modern
literature. This poem, for instance, is, as far as I know, the only love
poem before the Conquest which has come down to us. There is no romance
either, and there is, we may say, no humour. Life is a very serious