Cweorth is letter Q
There is no Anglo-Saxon rune poem. Cweorth is a Northumbrian Rune.
As I sat contemplating this rune, the words of William Blake sprang to mind.
Tiger, Tiger, burning bright,
in the forest of the night.
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes.
On what wings dare he aspire
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? What dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And water’d heaven with their tears, Did He smile His work to see? Did He who made the lamb make thee? Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?