the world. Not once alone, but many times, had I reflected on the tree of glory, before I had disclosed the miracle concerning the glorious tree, as in the course of events I found related in books, in writings, concerning the sign of victory. Until that the man[1] had always been buffeted by billows of sorrow, was an expiring Torch, though he in the mead-hall had received treasures, appled gold. Y (?) lamented; the Forced companion suffered affliction, an oppressive secret, though[2] before him the Steed measured the mile-paths and proudly ran, decked with wires[3]. Joy has waned, pleasure has decreased with the years; youth has fled, the former pride. U (?) was of old the splendor of youth; now, after the allotted time, are the days departed, the joys of life have vanished, as Water glides away, the hurrying floods. Every one's Wealth is transitory under the sky; the ornaments of the field pass away under the clouds like the wind when it rises loud before men, roams among the clouds, rushes along in rage, and again on a sudden grows still, close locked within its prison, held down by force.'
This may be condensed about as follows[4]:
1. When I was young I received gifts in hall, and was present when my horse careered across the plain in gorgeous trappings (or, perhaps, when the horses of others were raced); yet I was not happy, for I was still a sinner.
2. In later years I was converted, and life acquired a new meaning. I began to reflect, practised the poetic
