Tolkien's Beowulf and the "Ubi Sunt?" of Anglo-Saxon Literature

Taking a break from Langsdorff to read the recently-published translation of Beowulf written by J.R.R. Tolkien in the mid 1920s. I bought the book for the extensive (300-odd pages worth) commentaries on the original poem, assuming that the prose translation itself was a school exercise and wouldn't provide much in the way of literary insight or artistic enjoyment. However, I found the translation immensely gratifying. Writing from beyond the grave, Tolkien provides a little glimpse into that infinite well of "time-feeling" and über-"ubi sunt?" that characterizes Beowulf, and imbues the prose with that rhythmic, tempestuous, thunder-and-lightning, glittering tone of pride and sadness that is Anglo-Saxon literature.

Hu seo þrag gewat,
genap under nihthelm,
swa heo no wære.

How that time has passed away,
dark under the cover of night,
as if it had never been. (The Wanderer)