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<div style="text-align:center;">''So spoke the [[Wanderer]], mindful of hardships and of cruel slaughters:''<br /><br />''Each dawn, I rise alone, mired in ancient sorrows. Wretched and deprived of my''<br />''native land, I have had my mind bound with fetter. For many years, I lay hidden in''<br />''the concealment of the earth, buried deep in stone. From there, I went, abject and''<br />''winter-grieving, over the surface of the waves. I sought the prison of my noble''<br />''kinsman. Sorrow is a cruel companion to one who can afford few friends, and the''<br />''path of exile attends this mournful spirit.''<br /><br />''And so this world, every day, is crumbling and falling. The rulers lie dead,''<br />''deprived of revelry, bands of warriors lie fallen proud by the wall. War destroyed''<br />''some, carried them away; a sorrowful man hid one deep within a grave. Thus the''<br />''creator of men laid waste this dwelling-place, until the old works of giants stood''<br />''vacant, without the noise of their inhabitants.''<br /><br />''So said the Wanderer, set apart in secret meditations.''<br /><br />''The kingdom of the earth is full of miseries, and the decree of the fates shall''<br />''change the course of the [[High Heavens|heavens]].''</centerdiv> <div style="float:right; text-align:center; padding:2px 4px 4px 4px; color:white;">Inspired by<br>

from the [[Exeter Book]], ca. 10th century.</div><div style="clear:right;"></div><br><br>