modern readers through Tennyson's "Idylls of the King," has been
Christianised and consecrated. And so it was with some fine old English
(or Anglo-Saxon) poetry. But, just now, we are going to listen to
Catholic poets and teachers only.

We begin with the work of poets. Out of all those who wrote in what was
the best period of our old poetry, a period that lasted some hundred and
fifty or seventy-five years, we know the names of two only, Caedmon and
Cynewulf.

And here may I say that scholars agree that the names are to be
pronounced _Kadmon_ and _Kun-e-wolf_; in the second name we sound the
_y_ like a French _u_, make a syllable of the _e_, not sounding it as
_ee_, but short, and make the last syllable just what we now pronounce
as _wolf_.

Both of these poets deserve our love and our praise, as singers and
inspirers of other singers, but we know much more about Caedmon's life
than we know about his share in the poetry that has been attributed to
him; that is the poetry which has gone under his name. That he did
write much fine verse we know. On the other hand, we know a good deal as
to the authenticity of Cynewulf's poetry, and nothing about his life.

Both of these poets wrote in the language spoken in England before the
period of French influence. That influence upon English at first seemed
to be disastrous; the language became broken up and spoilt: but this was
only for a time; and by and by, out of roughness and chaotic grammar
there grew up a beautiful and stately speech meet for great poets to
sing in, and great men and women to use. So it is that what for a time
seems to be disastrous may one day be realised as benign and beautiful.