Summary

Ælfric Ælfric's Lives of Saints — Of Saint Swythun

The bolt at once shot out of the fetter,
and the serf rose up, freed by the saint.
A certain man was bound about the head
for his heavy guilt; he came to the saint,
and his sore head-bond soon burst asunder as he prayed.
We cannot write, nor recount in words,
all the miracles that the holy man Swithhun
wrought by the power of God in the sight of the people,
both on prisoners, and on sick men,
to manifest to men that they themselves may
merit the kingdom of heaven by good works,
even as Swithhun did, who now shineth through his miracles.
Source: Wikisource

Ælfric Ælfric's Lives of Saints — Of Saint Swythun

Then however at last the smith went to his burial-place,
and took hold, though fearfully, of a ring,
and cried to God, saying these words;
'O Lord God, maker of all creatures,
grant to me, a sinful man, that I may pull up this ring
out of this lid, if he lieth here within,
who thrice spake unto me in a dream.'
Thereupon he drew the iron out of the stone as easily
as if it had stood in sand, and greatly wondered thereat.
Source: Wikisource

Ælfric Ælfric's Lives of Saints — Of Saint Swythun

He lay thus a long time, despairing of his life;
then at last his kinsmen carried the man
to Saint Swithhun, and he himself confessed
his foolish words, that he had presumptously spoken,
and entreated pardon from him, and thereon he was made whole,
so that he went home in health with his kinsmen.
It is likewise to wit, that men do unwisely
when they doltishly jest at dead men's corpses,
and introduce by their sport any licentiousness,
when they should rather sorrow for the dead,
and dread the coming of death for themselves,
and earnestly pray for his soul without [any] madness.
Source: Wikisource

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