Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy (12th c., Lombard script)

Boethius speaks these poems in his own person historically. The first part in these [is] historical. He says "alas."
He speaks in his own person. Or rather, in the person of a foolish [man] with a vigorous reason, sighing on account of his misfortunes.

Songs that I once performed in a flourishing state of study,
tearful
Alas, I am compelled to enter upon mournful modes.
Behold to me
Behold, the mangled Muses dictate what must be written,
And of truth
And true elegies bedew my face with tears.
These at least
These at least no terror could overcome,
That not our
So that they might not accompany our journey.
The glory of happy
The glory of my once green and happy youth,
They console
Now consoles the sad fates of the old man.
For there comes
For there comes unexpected old age, hastened by evils,
And grief
And grief commanded its own age to be present.
Untimely
Untimely gray hairs are shed upon my head,
And trembles
And loose skin trembles on a worn-out body.
Death of men
Happy is the death of men which does not insert itself
Insert
Into sweet years, and often comes when called by the sad.
Alas how
Alas, how with a deaf ear it turns away from the wretched,
And weeping
And, cruel, refuses to close weeping eyes.
While with light
While Fortune, ill-trusted, favored with light goods,
Almost head
A sad hour had almost plunged my head [into death].
Now because
Now because the cloudy one has changed her deceitful face,
Prolongs
My impious life prolongs its unwelcome delays.
Why me
Why did you, my friends, so often boast that I was happy?
Who fell
He who has fallen did not stand on a stable footing.

This is the second portion. He calls upon philosophy.
He says "alas."
He speaks.
Philosophy addresses Boethius with changed appearance and dress.

While I was silently turning these things over in my own mind,
complaint
and marking out a tearful complaint with the service of my pen, there
stood
appeared to me standing above my head a woman of a very
respectable
respectable countenance. With eyes burning and sharper than
power
the common power of men, a vivid color, and an inexhaustible
vigor
vigor, although she was so full of age that in no way was she
our
believed to be of our time. Her stature was of ambiguous
For now
distinction. For now she restrained herself to the common
measure
measure of men, but now she seemed to strike the heaven with the
seemed
top of her head. When she had lifted her head higher, she even
penetrated
penetrated heaven itself, and frustrated the sight of those humans looking at her.