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To get the most out of this page, you should also download the following fonts: JSL Blackletter from Jeff Lee's Computer Typography Page and Junius Modern from Peter Baker at the University of Virginia. These fonts have been used to reproduce the Old and Middle English texts that accompany these voice recordings. To install the fonts on a PC, simply download them to the folder C:\WINDOWS\FONTS. 

You should also download and read the accompanying text files, which give instructions for using non-standard characters (thorn, long "s," etc.) as well as copyright and distribution information.  

Junius Modern Text File
JSL Blackletter Text File
Go to the English Department's Historical English Font page for even more fun fonts.

From the Ða Engliscan Gesiþas Web Site, read by Steve Pollington. Click on the to hear each verse read aloud. If your fonts are properly installed, the left column should be displayed in Old English and the right column should be displayed in a modern translation. Click here to read the entire poem in Old English.
  
Him ða Scyld gewatto gescæphwile
felahror feranon frean wære.
Hi hyne þa ætbæronto brimes faroðe,
swæse gesiþas,swa he selfa bæd,
þenden wordum weoldwine Scyldinga;
leof landfrumalange ahte. 		 Forth he fared at the fated moment,
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
the leader beloved who long had ruled.... 
Wær æt hyðe stodhringedstefna,
isig ond utfus,æþelinges fær.
Aledon þaleofne þeoden,
beaga bryttan,on bearm scipes,
mærne be mæste.þær wæs madma fela
of feorwegum,frætwa, gelæded. 		 In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
there laid they down their darling lord
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
fetched from far was freighted with him. 
Ne hyrde ic cymlicorceol gegyrwan
hildewæpnumond heaðowædum,
billum ond byrnum;him on bearme læg
madma mænigo,þa him mid scoldon
on flodes æhtfeor gewitan. 		 No ship have I known so nobly dight
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
a heaped hoard that hence should go
far o'er the flood with him floating away. 
Nalæs hi hine læssanlacum teodan,
þeodgestreonum,þon þa dydon
þe hine æt frumsceafteforð onsendon
ænne ofer yðeumborwesende.
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
who in former time forth had sent him
sole on the seas, a suckling child. 
Wa gyt hie him asettonsegen geldenne
heah ofer heafod,leton holm beran,
geafon on garsecg;him wæs geomor sefa,
murnende mod.Men ne cunnon
secgan to soðe,selerædende,
hæleð under heofenum,hwa þæm hlæste onfeng.
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able
to say in sooth, no son of the halls,
no hero 'neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight! 

Read by Linda Ehrsam Voigts, Curators' Professor, Department of English, University of Missouri - Kansas City, and taken from the Engelond Web Site. The text on the left is in JSL Blackletter typeface, while the text on the right has the same words in a modern type. If they look the same to you, you have not downloaded the fonts correctly.
 
 
Whan that aprill with his shoures soote 
The droghte of march hath perced to the roote, 
And bathed euery veyne in swich licour 
Of which vertu engendred is the flour; 
Whan zephirus eek with his sweete breeth 
Inspired hath in euery holt and heeth 
Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne 
Hath in the ram his halue cours yronne, 
And smale foweles maken melodye, 
That slepen al the nyght with open ye 
(so priketh hem nature in hir corages); 
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, 
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes, 
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes; 
And specially from euery shires ende 
Of engelond to caunterbury they wende, 
The hooly blisful martir for to seke, 
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke. 
Bifil that in that seson on a day, 
In southwerk at the tabard as I lay 
Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage 
To caunterbury with ful deuout corage, 
At nyght was come into that hostelrye 
Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye, 
Of sondry folk, by auenture yfalle 
In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle, 
That toward caunterbury wolden ryde. 
The chambres and the stables weren wyde, 
And wel we weren esed atte beste. 
And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste, 
So hadde I spoken with hem euerichon 
That I was of hir felaweshipe anon, 
And made forward erly for to ryse, 
To take oure wey ther as I yow deuyse. 
But nathelees, whil I haue tyme and space, 
Er that I ferther in this tale pace, 
Me thynketh it acordaunt to resoun 
To telle yow al the condicioun 
Of ech of hem, so as it semed me, 
And whiche they weren, and of what degree, 
And eek in what array that they were inne; 
And at a knyght than wol I first bigynne.		 Whan that aprill with his shoures soote
The droghte of march hath perced to the roote,And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the ram his half cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh hem nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende,
The holy blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.
Bifil that in that sesoun on a day,
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay
Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage
To Caunterbury, with ful devout corage,
At nyght was come into that hostelrye
Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye,
Of sondry folk, by aventure yfalle
In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle,
That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde.
The chambres and the stables weren wyde,
And wel we weren esed atte beste.
And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste,
So hadde I spoken with hem everichon
That I was of hir felaweshipe anon,
And made forward erly for to ryse,
To take oure wey ther as I yow devyse.
But, nathelees, whil I have tyme and space,
Er that I ferther in this tale pace,
Me thynketh it acordaunt to resoun
To telle yow al the condicioun
Of ech of hem, so as it semed me,
And whiche they were, and of what degree,
And eek in what array that they were inne;
And at a knyght than wol I first bigynne.

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