A Riddle, an Enigma

Old English riddle

Anonymous

My dress is silent when I tread the ground

Or stay at home or stir upon the waters.

Sometimes my trappings and the lofty air

Raise me above the dwelling-place of men,

And then the power of clouds carries me far

Above the people; and my ornaments

Loudly resound, send forth a melody

And clearly sing, when I am not in touch

With earth or water, but a flying spirit.