he spring was gone. May
hell's portal be closed and heaven's opened, may the 1230
eternal kingdom of the angels be revealed with joy
unceasing, and may their part be assigned with
Mary, to each man who keepeth in memory the
most sacred festival of the cross beneath the heavens, 1235
which the almighty King over all protected with
his arm! Finit.

20. EPILOGUE.

Old and ready for death by reason of this failing
house, I thus have woven a web of words and
wondrously have gathered it up; time and again
have I pondered and sifted my thought in the prison
of the night. I knew not fully the truth concerning 1240
the cross[1] until wisdom revealed a broader
knowledge through its marvelous power o'er the
thought of my heart. I was stained with deeds of
evil, fettered in sins, torn by doubts, girt round with 1245
bitter needs, until the King of might wondrously
granted learning unto me as a comfort for my old
age; until he gave unto me his spotless grace, and
imbued my heart with it, revealed it as glorious, in
time broadened it, set free my body, unlocked my 1250
heart, and loosed the power of song, which joyfully
and gladly I have used in the world. Not one time
alone, but often had I thought upon the tree of
glory, before I had the miracle revealed regarding
the glorious tree, as in the course of events I found 1255
related in books and in writings concerning the sign
of victory. Ever until that time was the man buffeted
in the surge of sorrow, was he a weakly flaring
torch (C)[2], although he had received treasures
and appled gold in the mead-hall; wroth in heart 1260
(Y), he mourned; a companion to need (N), he
suffered crushing grief and anxious care, although
before him his horse (E) measured the miles and
proudly ran, decked with gold. Hope (W) is
waned, and joy through the course of years; youth 1265
is fled, and the pride of old. Once (U) was the
splendor of youth(?); now after that alloted time
are the days departed, are the pleasures of life
dwindled away, as water (L) glideth, or the rushing
floods. Wealth (F) is but a loan to each beneath 1270
the heavens; the beauties of the field vanish
away beneath the clouds, most like unto the wind
when it riseth loud before men, roameth amid the
clouds, courseth along in wrath, and then on a sudden 1275
becometh still, close shut in its narrow prison,
cr