In all of this, he aimed to turn men away from wickedness and lead them to a love of and practice of good works. In turn, reflecting on what he had heard, he transformed it into most delightful poetry, and by echoing it back to the monks in more melodious sounds, he made his teachers his listeners. Hilda then welcomed him and his family into the monastery, made him a brethren, and ordered that the entire course of Bible history be expounded to him.

He left humbly and returned the next morning with a fantastic poem.

To put him to the test, they read him a passage from the Bible in Latin and challenged him to turn it into poetry, if he could. The steward brought him to Hilda, who made him repeat the hymn he had written to the monks, and everyone agreed that God’s grace was upon Caedmon. He went to the steward of the monastery lands first thing in the morning and showed him the gift he had received while sleeping. READ ALSO: John Keats - Biography and His PoetryĬaedmon awoke remembering the hymn’s words and adding many more to them. As he slept at the usual time, one stood by him saying: “Caedmon, sing me something.” “I cannot sing,” he answered, ‘and that is why I came hither from the feast.” But he who spake unto him said again, “Caedmon, sing to me.” And he said, “What shall I sing?” and he said, “Sing the beginning of created things.” Thereupon Caedmon began to sing verses that he had never heard before, of this import: “Now should we praise the power and wisdom of the Creator, the works of the Father.” This is the sense but not the form of the hymn that he sang while sleeping. Now, once upon a time, he did this at a particular festival, and went out to the stall to care for the horses, this duty being assigned to him for that night. Indeed, he was so ignorant of singing that, at a feast where it was customary for each guest to sing in turn for the enjoyment of all, he would rise from his seat when he saw the harp approaching him and go home ashamed. He had lived as a layman until he was of mature age and had never learned any poetry.

Bede's account of the poet caedmon