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Another of his poems is called



Er ist gewaltic unde Starc

Spervogel. Twelfth century.

trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1869

He is full of power and might

Who was born on Christmas night,

The holy Christ is He;

Praised of all things that be,

Save the devil, whose lothely pride

Brooked not once to bow the knee,

So must he in hell abide.

In that hell is mickle woe,

Well doth he who dwells there know;

Shineth not the sun so bright,

Helpeth not the moon by night,

Not a star he there may see,

Foul is all that meets his sight,

Ah how fain in heaven were he!

But in heaven there stands a Home,

A golden way thereto doth come,

The pillars are of marble fair,

Set about with jewels rare,

That our Lord for it doth win:

But no man may enter there,

Save that he be pure from sin.

He who goeth to church full fain,

Pure from envy and from stain,

Gladsome life he well may have;

Him await beyond the grave,

Angel friends and blithesome morn,

Heavenly life so fair and brave;

Well for him that he was born!


Alas! that I have served so long

A lord that is both fell and strong;

Evil wage from him I win,

Ah I rue me of my sin!

Holy Ghost, now succour me

Ere my woes in hell begin,

Break his bonds and set me free.

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