In three Old English poems veneration of the Cross receives stressed and memorable expression: the Elene, Christ III, and Dream of the Rood. Of these, Christ III and the Dream have most in common both in spirit and detail. Cynewulf 's Elene … is a narrative of the Invention of the Cross, which attains its greatest poetic distinction in two incidental passages, the descriptions of Constantine's battle against the Huns, and Elene's sea-journey. In the lines which deal with the Cross itself, the Elene makes little display of that lyric emotion which is so continuously characteristic of the Dream of the Rood, and which colors at least two passages in Christ III. Of the three poems, it is the Dream of the Rood which, among all Old English religious poems, has pre-eminent distinction as a superb lyric presentation of a religious adoration which finds its symbol in the Cross.

The veneration with which Old English poets glorify the Cross as the greatest of all symbols cannot be considered in itself a derivative, solely or even chiefly, of the poetic imagination. Whether or not they were professional churchmen, the religious poets were obviously well versed in doctrine and patristic learning, and reflected in their poems much that was conventional in professional exegesis, and in mystical interpretation of ecclesiastical detail. Cynewulf, in the epilogue to Elene, refers to the care with which he had gathered, weighed, and sifted details of the Cross legend, until greater knowledge had brought him deeper understanding. It seems unlikely that this statement refers merely to the Crucifixion, or to the Invention of the Cross. His phrasing is suggestive, rather, of a pious concern with the corpus of mystical interpretations by which the medieval mind extended the symbolic significance of the Cross, linking its wood to the tree of life, and its shape to the shining sign of the Son of Man, which at the Judgment shall illumine and transcend the universe.

This adoration of the Cross is revealed both in patristic commentary, and in the hymnology of the medieval Church. It was illustrated in Alcuin's imitation of Fortunatus in the composition of cruciform acrostics and hymns to the Holy Cross. Even beyond the walls of the Church the cross became a frequently recurring symbol, and stone crosses, often skillfully adorned with carving and inscription, served not merely as mortuary monuments but as boundary marks, oratories, and places of public worship.

It is on one such cross, the Ruthwell Cross near Dumfries on the Scottish border, that we find inscribed, as a part of the decoration, brief passages from the Dream of the Rood. Through this inscription the Dream of the Rood, with little warrant, was for a time associated with the name of Caedmon.

The theory that Caedmon was author of the fragments of the Dream inscribed on the Ruthwell Cross rested on two postulates. Daniel Haigh in 1856 dated the Cross as of the seventh century, and suggested that the runic lines on the Cross are fragments of a lost poem of Caedmon of which the Dream of the Rood is a later version. Ten years later Stephens supported this theory of Caedmonian authorship by his assertion that an almost obliterated inscription on the upper runic panel included the words, 'Caedmon made me.' But repeated and careful examinations of the Cross have rendered these theories untenable. Critical studies of the beasts, flowers, and foliage in the ornamentation suggest a date definitely later than the seventh century, possibly as late as the year 1000. The language of the inscription is regarded by [Albert S.] Cook as of equally late date. Vietor, after thorough examination of the Cross, was unable in 1895 to find any convincing traces of the name of Caedmon.

It was Dietrich who first called attention to a number of reasons for attributing the poem to Cynewulf. He attempted to connect the Dream of the Rood with the Elene, since the theme of each was the Cross, and conjectured that the poet was inspired to write of the Invention of the Cross by the influence of the vision which he narrates in the Dream. He called attention to a similarity in tone between the personal passages of Cynewulf 's signed poems and certain lines of a personal nature which end the Dream of the Rood, and found additional support for his theory in correspondence of diction between the Dreamand the authentic Cynewulfian poems. He concluded that the Dream was written by Cynewulf toward the end of his life.

The question of the authorship of the Dream of the Rood must be determined in the light of the following facts: that the diction of the Dream is, on the whole, Cynewulfian; that Cynewulf had written and signed another poem on the Cross in which he handled the vision of Constantine with evident appreciation of its beauty; and that a somewhat extended passage at the end of the Dream is remarkably similar in substance and tone to the personal passages which conclude the Christ and Elene. These facts, taken in conjunction, tend to make probable the theory that Cynewulf wrote this lovely lyric of the Cross.

In its blending of lyric grace and religious adoration, the Dream of the Rood is one of the most beautiful of Old English poems. The poet employs the frame of the medieval dream-vision within which to set the glorious image which appeared to him in the midnight when mortal men lay wrapped in slumber. It seemed to him that he beheld the Cross upraised on high, enwreathed with light and adorned with gold and gems. Throughout Creation the angels of God beheld it; holy spirits gazed upon it, and men on earth. Stained as he was by sin, it was granted him to see the Tree shining in radiant splendor. In his dream the Cross flamed with changing color, now decked with gold and precious jewels, now wet with blood:

Lo! I will tell the dearest of dreams
That I dreamed in the midnight when mortal
  men
Were sunk in slumber. Meseemed that I saw
A wondrous Tree towering in air,
Most shining of crosses encompassed with light.
Brightly that beacon was gilded with gold;
Jewels adorned it, fair at the foot,
Five on the shoulder-beam, blazing in splendor.
Through all creation the angels of God
Beheld it shining—no cross of shame!—
But holy spirits gazed on its gleaming,
Men upon earth, and all this great creation.
Wondrous the Tree, that token of triumph,
And I a transgressor, stained with my sins!
I gazed on the Rood arrayed in glory,
Fairly shining and graced with gold,
The Cross of the Savior beset with gems;
But through the gold-work outgleamed a token
Of the ancient evil of wretched souls,
Where the Cross on its right side once sweat
 blood.
Saddened and rueful and smitten with terror
At the wondrous Vision, I saw the Rood
Swift to vary in vesture and hue,
Now wet and stained with the Blood outwelling,
Now fairly gilded and graced with gold.

The convention of the dream-vision provides the poet with a device whereby he is able to shape his material to superb advantage. It is characteristic of the convention that his vision should come vividly to life with endowment of human thought and feeling, and human speech. The Cross becomes the narrator of the Crucifixion and Passion of Christ, and the tragic description by this device takes on elements of dramatic emotion which could come in no other way. As the poet in dream gazes with rueful heart upon the Rood, it begins to speak, recalling its tragic history. Once, long years before, it grew as a forest tree on the edge of a wood. But impious hands hewed it from its stock and shaped it into an instrument for the punishment of malefactors. As it stood on a hilltop outlined against the sky, it became a spectacular symbol of the world's evil. Then fear and horror fell upon it. For it beheld the Lord of all the world hasting in heroic mood to ascend upon it for the redemption of Man. The terror of the Cross, as it foresaw its destiny to serveas the instrument of the Passion of Christ, is a superbly imaginative touch rendered in the simplest terms. Though struck with horror it could not in disobedience reject the fate appointed. When Almighty God clasped it with willing arms it trembled with terror, yet dared not bend or break. It must needs stand fast holding the Lord of all creation, and wet with His blood. A stark vigor of imagination fuses with lyric emotion to make the description notable:

Natheless, as I lay there long time I gazed
In rue and sadness on my Savior's Tree,
Till I heard in dream how the Cross addressed
  me,
Of all woods the worthiest, speaking these
  words:
'Long years ago—well yet I remember—
They hewed me down on the edge of the holt,
Severed my trunk; strong foemen took me,
To a spectacle shaped me—a felon's cross!
High on their shoulders they bore me to hilltop,
Fastened me firmly, foes enough, forsooth.
Then I saw the Ruler of all mankind

In brave mood hasting to mount upon me.
Refuse I dared not, nor bow nor break,
Though I saw earth's confines shudder in fear;
All foes I might fell, yet still I stood fast.
Then the Hero young—it was God Almighty—
Put off His raiment, steadfast and strong;
With lordly mood in the sight of many
He mounted the Cross to redeem mankind.
When the Hero clasped me I trembled in terror,
But I dared not bow me nor bend to earth;
I must needs stand fast. Upraised as the Rood
I held the High King, the Lord of heaven.
I dared not bow! With black nails driven
Those sinners pierced me; the prints are clear,
The open wounds. I dared injure none.
They mocked us both. I was wet with blood
From the Hero's side when He sent forth His
  spirit.
Many a bale I bore on that hill-side,
Seeing the Lord in agony outstretched.
Black darkness covered with clouds God's body,
That radiant splendor; shadow went forth
Wan under heaven; then wept all creation,
Bewailing the King's death; Christ was on the
  Cross.'

The last few lines of this passage furnish superb illustration of the imaginative realism which underlies the simplicity of the poet's phrasing. The darkness which falls upon the earth at the consummation of the Passion he inherits from Biblical source. But he puts it to striking and reverent use in a contrast between the darkness of obscuring cloud and the radiant splendor of the body of Christ hanging on the Cross. The weeping of all Creation at the Savior's death may well have come into the poet's mind from Gregorian homily, or from memories of the Balder legend and its reference to the mourning of all nature at Balder's death. But the stroke which completes the passage is his own, a brief half-line of pregnant compression in which all the drama and density of mankind are gathered up in the symbol of eternal love transcendent over evil: 'Christ was on the Cross.'

There follows, in the speech of the Rood, a description of the Deposition and Burial. The Cross stained with Christ's blood, and wounded with the arrows of the war-wolves who had slain Him, was hewed down and covered over in a deep trench—'a fearful fate.' But later friends and thanes of God recovered it and decked it with silver and gold. The Rood which was once the bitterest of tortures was honored by the Prince of glory above all forest trees, even as He had honored His mother, Mary, over all the race of women. The dreamer is then commanded to reveal his vision to men. The speech of the Cross ends with rehearsal of the Ascension, and prophecy of the Day of Judgment to come.

This vision of the Cross and its narrative of the Crucifixion find closest parallel in mood and detail in Christ III, where the more extended description of the Crucifixion and the shining image of the Cross transcendent in the Day of Judgment produce a unique fusion of realism and symbolism. Wherein, then, lies the unique emotional appeal of the Dream of the Rood? It springs, in considerable degree, from the inherent value of the poetic device which the poet has adopted, the dream-vision, within the conventions of which the Crucifixion, as told by the Cross, receives uniquely personalized rehearsal. The resultant note of emotional fervor, in which the triumphant and the tragic are so closely blended, is a superlative derivative of the spirit of religious devotion effectively supplemented by elements of literary form.

The lines which follow, and which conclude the poem, unite highly personal reflection with a prophetic delineation of the joys of the blessed in the life to come. In mood and diction these lines are so suggestive of the personal passages of Cynewulf 's signed poems that, even though the runes are lacking, we are tempted to regard the poem as his. If the Dream of the Rood is not Cynewulf 's, it is the work of a poet who has imitated with singular faithfulness all the characteristics of the personal mood invariably associated with the Cynewulfian signature. Even in Elene and Christ II there is no more exquisitely sensitive and personalized revelation of religious faith and hope than that which graces the ending of the Dream:

Then in solitude I prayed to the Rood fervently and with joyful heart. My soul was eager to be gone; I had lived through many an hour of longing. Now have I hope of life, that I may turn to thetriumphant Cross, I above all men, and revere it well. Thereto I have great desire, and my hope of succor is set upon the Cross. I have not now in this world many powerful friends. They have departed hence out of the pleasures of this earthly life, and sought the King of glory; they dwell now with the High Father in heaven, and abide in glory. And every day I look forward to the hour when the Cross of my Lord, of which I had vision here on earth, may fetch me out of this fleeting life and bring me where is great joy and rapture in heaven, where God's people are established forever in eternal bliss; and set me where I may hereafter dwell in glory, and with the Saints have joy of joys. May the Lord be-friend me, He who on earth once suffered on the Cross for the sins of men.

Whether written by Cynewulf himself, or by some singularly faithful imitator, the intimate biographic appeal of such a passage brings conviction to ear and mind that here is an authentic and extended parallel to the signed revelations of the Cynewulfian poems.