The
Ruin
The
Ruin is a poem written by an unknown Anglo-Saxon poet
in the eighth century.
It describes the remains of a Roman city, perhaps Bath or Carlisle.
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The
city buildings fell apart, the works
of giants crumble.
Tumbled are the towers ruined the roofs, and broken the barred gate,
frost in the plaster, all the ceilings gape, torn and collapsed and eaten
up by age.
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Often
this wall stained red and grey with lichen has stood
by surviving storms while kingdoms rose and fell.
And now the high curved wall itself has fallen. |
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Resolute
masons, skilled in rounded building wondrously linked
the framework with iron bonds.
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| The
public halls were bright, with lofty gables, bath-houses
many; great the cheerful noise, and many mead-halls
filled with human pleasures. |
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A
host of heroes, glorious, gold-adorned, gleaming
in splendour, proud and flushed with wine, shone
in their armour, gazed on gems and treasure, on silver,
riches, wealth and jewellery.
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Stone
buildings stood, and the hot streams cast forth wide
sprays of water, which a wall enclosed in its bright
compass, where convenient stood hot baths ready for
them at the centre.
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| The
Complete Verse |
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