In his final oration, Judge Holden evokes the ancient Old English poem The Wanderer, called the “meditations of a solitary exile on his past glories as a warrior…”

Here are a few lines that appear toward the end of the poem followed by a particularly neat correspondence in the form of the judge’s words to the kid:

A wise hero must realize
how terrible it will be,
when all the wealth of this world
lies waste,
as now in various places
throughout this middle-earth
walls stand,
blown by the wind,
covered with frost,
storm-swept the buildings.
The halls decay,
their lords lie
deprived of joy,
the whole troop has fallen,
the proud ones, by the wall.
War took off some,
carried them on their way,
one, the bird took off
across the deep sea,
one, the gray wolf
shared one with death,
one, the dreary-faced
man buried
in a grave.
And so He destroyed this city,
He, the Creator of Men,
until deprived of the noise
of the citizens,
the ancient work of giants
stood empty.
He who thought wisely
on this foundation,
and pondered deeply
on this dark life,
wise in spirit,
remembered often from afar
many conflicts,
and spoke these words:

Where is the horse gone? Where the
rider?
Where the giver of treasure?
Where the seats of the feast?
Where the revels in the hall?

…………………………………………………………………………………
Says Holden:
Where is yesterday? Where is Glanton and Brown and where is the priest? He leaned closer> Where is Shelby, whom you left to the mercies of Elias in the desert, and where is Tate whom you abandoned in the mountains? Where are the ladies, ah the fair and tender llladies with whom you danced at the governor’s ball when you were a hero anointed with the blood of the enemies of the republic you’d elected to defend? And where is the fiddler and the dance? (BM 331)