Classic Poem

There was a priest in the land; Layamon was he called.
He was Leovenath's son; the Lord be gracious to him;
He dwelt at Ernley, at a noble church,
Upon Severn shore, — good there he thought it, —
Quite near to Redstone; he read there his service book.
It came to his mind and into his serious thought,
To relate of the English their noble deeds,
What they were called, and whence they had come,
Who first did possess the land of the English,
After the flood, which came from the Lord,
And did destroy all things that it found alive,
Except Noah and Shem, Japhet and Ham,
And their four wives who were with them in the ark.
Layamon did travel widely among the people,
And got him those noble books that he set as his pattern.
He took that English book that Saint Bede had made;
Another he took, in Latin, that Saint Albin had made
And the fair Augustine, who brought baptism hither;
A third book he took, and laid it alongside,
Which a French cleric had made, well learned in lore;
Wace was his name, he knew well how to write,
And he then did give it to the noble Eleanor,
Who was Henry's queen, that high king's.
Layamon laid these books out, and he turned the leaves;
With love he searched them, the Lord be to him gracious.
He took feathers in his fingers, and he composed on parchment;
And these most true words he set then together,
And these three books he condensed into one.
Now Layamon prayeth each noble man,
For the love of Almighty God and of his gracious heart,
Who will read these books and learn these runes,
That some true words he will say together
For his father's soul, who did beget him,
And for his mother's soul, who bore him as man,
And for his own soul, that it be the better for them. Amen.