The Conversion of Northumbria

The black-hair'd gaunt Paulinus
By ruddy Edwin stood:—
"Bow down, O king of Deira,
Before the blessed Rood!
Cast out thy heathen idols,
And worship Christ our Lord."
—But Edwin look'd and ponder'd,
And answer'd not a word.

Again the gaunt Paulinus
To ruddy Edwin spake:
"God offers life immortal
For his dear Son's own sake!
Wilt thou not hear his message,
Who bears the keys and sword?"
—But Edwin look'd and ponder'd,
And answer'd not a word.

Rose then a sage old warrior;
Was five-score winters old;
Whose beard from chin to girdle
Like one long snow-wreath roll'd:—
"At Yule-time in our chamber
We sit in warmth and light,
While cold and howling round us
Lies the black land of Night.

"Athwart the room a sparrow
Darts from the open door:
Within the happy hearth-light
One red flash—and no more!
We see it come from darkness,
And into darkness go:—
So is our life, King Edwin!
Alas, that it is so!

"But if this pale Paulinus
Have somewhat more to tell;
Some news of Whence and Whither,
And where the soul will dwell;—
If on that outer darkness
The sun of hope may shine;—
He makes life worth the living!
I take his God for mine!"

So spake the wise old warrior;
And all about him cried:
"Paulinus' God hath conquer'd!
And he shall be our guide:—
For he makes life worth living
Who brings this message plain,
When our brief days are over,
That we shall live again."

—Unknown