Here's one where the introduction probably
will take longer than the poem.
But there's a fantastic Anglo-Saxon poem called,
"Deor", which was apparently written by a guy named Deor,
who was a court poet.
And there were tales about all of these historical and
mythological troubles.
And at the end of every trouble, at the end of every stanza,
there's a refrain that goes, 'that sorrow passed,
and so may this.'
And then there's this tremendous turn at the end of the poem.
And Deor speaks about himself.
And he tells us that he's been displaced as court poet.
And basically, his future is shot.
But then that refrain comes around again,
'that sorrow passed, and so may this.'
This is called, "Song for the Song-maker".
"Deor is done for, defiled and defunct.
His tongue is in tatters.
Take him away.
Burn his aestel.
Bury his books.
And let out a woe: The world is worse."