m of a child,
Prince of the angels (if he had not been
Thy Son free from sin, never so many
True wonders in world would he have wrought
In number of days. Thou wouldst not from death 780
So gloriously him, Ruler of nations,
Have awaked 'fore the hosts, if he in glory
Through the bright [maid] were not thy Son),--
Now, Father of angels, send forth thy sign.
As thou didst hear the holy man, 785
Moses, in prayer, when thou, God of might,
Didst show to the earl at the noble time
Under the hill-slope the bones of Joseph,
So, Ruler of hosts, if it be thy will,
Through that bright form I'll pray to thee 790
That to me the gold-hoard, Maker of spirits,
Thou wilt reveal, that has been from men
[So] long concealed. Let, Author of life,
Now from this plain a winsome smoke
'Neath heaven's expanse mount up on high 795
Playing in the air. I'll the better believe,
And I'll the more firmly stablish my mind,
Undoubting trust, upon the hanged Christ,
That he be in truth the Saviour of souls,
Eternal, Almighty, Israel's King, 800
Forever may have glory in heaven,
Rule without end the dwellings eternal."

[1] No _lacuna_ in MS. Gn.^1 inserted one line, but Gn.^2 one
word (_feonda_), which W. prefers. Text as Z. (_feondes_),
which Sievers approves.

[2] 'Mindful,' Gm. and Gn.; 'suffering,' Z. [?].

[3] Referring to the sword.

[4] Gn., or 'foul,' Z.

X.

Then out of that place a vapor arose
Like smoke 'neath the heavens. There was rejoiced
The mind of the man. With both his hands, 805
Happy and law-clever, upward he clapped.
Judas exclaimed, clever in thought:
"Now I in truth myself have known
In my hardened heart that thou art the Saviour
Of [this] mid-earth. To thee, God of might, 810
Sitting in glory, be thanks without end,
That to me so sad and so full of sin
Thou revealed'st in glory the secrets of fate.
Now, Son of God, to thee will I pray,
Will-giver of peoples, now I know that thou art 815
Declared and born of all kings the Glory,
That thou no longer be of my sins,
Those which I committed by no means seldom,
O Maker, mindful. Let me, God of might,
Amid the number of thine own kingdom 820
With the army of saints my dwelling have
In that