On Whitby’s crest The royal feast was holden: far below, A noisier revel dinned the shore; therein The humbler guests partook. Full many a tent Glimmered upon the white sands, ripple-kissed; Full many a savory dish sent up its steam; The farmer from the field had driven his calf; The fisher brought the harvest of the sea; And Jock, the woodsman, from his oaken glades The tall stag, arrow-pierced. In gay attire Now green, now crimson, matron sat and maid: Each had her due: the elder, reverence most, The lovelier that and love. Beside the board The beggar lacked not place.
When hunger’s rage, Sharpened by fresh sea-air, was quelled, the jest Succeeded, and the tale of foreign lands; But, boast who might of distant chief renowned, His battle-axe, or fist that felled an ox, The Anglian’s answer was “our Hilda” still: “Is not her prayer puissant as sworded hosts? Her insight more than wisdom of the seers? What birth like hers illustrious? Edwin’s self, Dëira’s exile, next Northumbria’s king, Her kinsman was. Together bowed they not When he of holy hand, missioned from Rome, Paulinus, poured o’er both the absolving wave And knit to Christ? Kingliest was she, that maid Who spurned earth-crowns!” The night advanced, he rose That ruled the feast, the miller old, yet blithe, And cried, “A song!” So song succeeded song, For each man knew that time to chant his stave, But no man yet sang nobly. Last the harp Made way to Ceadmon, lowest at the board: He pushed it back, answering, “I cannot sing:” Around him many gathered clamoring, “Sing!” And one among them, voluble and small, Shot out a splenetic speech: “This lord of kine, Our herdsman, grows to ox! Behold, his eyes Move slow, like eyes of oxen!”
Sudden rose
Ceadmon, and spake: “I note full oft young men
Quick-eyed, but small-eyed, darting glances round
Now here, now there, like glance of some poor bird,
That light on all things and can rest on none:
As ready are they with their tongues as eyes;
But all their songs are chirpings backward blown
On winds that sing God’s song, by them unheard: