Eala Earendel engla beorhtast
Offer middangeard monnum sended.

Hail Earendel the brightest of angels
send to men above middle-earth.
(Christ I, ll.104-105)

Eala þu mæra         middangeardes
seo clæneste         cwen ofer eorþan
þara þe gewurde         to widan feore,
hu þec mid ryhte         ealle reordberend
hatað ond secgað,         hæleð geond foldan,
bliþe mode,         þæt þu bryd sie
þæs selestan         swegles bryttan.
(Christ I, ll. 275-281)

O thou glorious lady of this middle-earth!
thou purest woman throughout the earth,
of those that were from time eternal,
how rightly do all men with gift of speech
upon this earth name thee, and say,
blithe in their hearts, that thou art bride
of heaven's chief Lord!

he ærest sceop eorðan bearnum
heofon to hrofe, halig scyppend,
þa middangeard moncynnes weard;

He first created the earth for the children
Heaven as a roof, holy Creator;
then the earth mankind's Guardian,
eternal Lord afterwards created
(Cædmon's Hymn, ll. 5-7)

                                    Swa þes middangeard
ealra dogra gehwam         dreoseð ond fealleþ,
forþon ne mæg weorþan wis         wer, ær he age
wintra dæl in woruldrice.

                                   So day by day
this middle-earth declines and falls,
for mortal cannot grow wise until he gain
his years' portion in the world.
(The Wanderer, ll. 61-63)

Ongietan sceal gleaw hæle         hu gæstlic bið,
þonne ealre þisse worulde wela         weste stondeð,
swa nu missenlice         geond þisne middangeard
winde biwaune         weallas stondaþ,
hrime bihrorene,         hryðge þa ederas.

A wise man must grasp how ghastly it will be,
when all the wealth of this world stand waste,
even as now throughout this middle-earth
many a wall stands wind-beaten,
covered with rime, the hedges uprooted.
(The Wanderer, ll. 73-77)

Yþde swa þisne eardgeard         ælda scyppend
oþþæt burgwara         breahtma lease
eald enta geweorc         idlu stodon.

Thus did the Creator of men lay waste this abode,
until, deprived of the noise of its inhabitants,
the ancient buildings of the giants stood empty.
(The Wanderer, ll. 83-85)

Wrætlic is þes wealstan, wyrde gebræcon;
burgstede burston, brosnað enta geweorc.

Splendid this rampart is, though fate destroyed it,
The city buildings fell apart, the works
Of giants crumble.
(The Ruin, ll.1-2)

Cynning sceal rice healdan. Ceastra beoð feorran gesyne,
orðanc enta geweorc, þa þe on þysse eorðan syndon,
wrætlic weallstana geweorc.

A king shal rule. Cities are to be seen far off,
cunning work of giants, which are on the earth,
wondrous work of wall-stones.
(The Cotton Gnome, ll. 1-3)