Indeed it does, lindil. Now we have a full house. My favourite 'minor work' so far has been
The Homecoming of Beorhtnoth, Beorhthelm's son, from which come these lines:
Quote:
There are candles in the dark and cold voices.
I hear mass chanted for master's soul
in Ely isle. Thus ages pass,
and men after men. Mourning voices
of women weeping. So the world passes;
day follows day, and the dust gathers,
his tomb crumbles, as time gnaws it,
and his kith and kindred out of ken dwindle.
So men flicker and in the mirk go out.
The world withers and the wind rises;
the candles are quenched. Cold falls the night.
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The speaker is Torhthelm, the minstrel's son, and from that we can see the source of his language, which is the closest modern equivalent to that of the Anglo-Saxon poets. A real gem in my view.