Monday, March 14, 2011

The Charge to Guthlac


Secure and sain this savage waste
Into your care 'tis giv'n
For though the earth is sick with sin
It is the Lord's, and all therin
As it was once, make once again
A colony of heav'n

- ... catacomb
We know the holy goal you crave
These phantom fens to sain and save
By why this plundered, pagan grave
Should be our (something) home

For Christ, a barrow-plunderer
And grave-robber is Lord
He snatches us from death's decay
And steals our treasured sin away
He'll carry off our souls one day
His hallowed, heavenly hoard.

- battle plan = weak enough to be like Christ through asceticism

His broken body for your meat
His blood poured out for you to drink
A meal we hardly dare to eat
And is that not enough?

Recall what Christ once did for you
To heal you, hale and whole
So take this beorg, by wrack-kin trekked
By wrathful, writhing, wild-wraith wrecked
And as your soul, by sin-stain specked
Was saved, so save this soil.

As the Word once wore this world
To harrow and to heal
That man, the fallen, half-formed fake
By grace, His nature might partake
Rebuild this beorg, reform, remake,
Revive and make it real

1 comment:

  1. Maybe "His blood poured out to you for drink." ? Sounds a bit more like the archaic hymns I grew up singing.