In Old English tír meant "glory." Both the Old Icelandic and Old Norwegian Rune Poems give TyR  as the name of the rune--the name of the god of law and war. Either the  word for "glory" was substituted for the name of the god (the Old English form was Tíw) in the poem due to Christianity or the rune's name was influenced by the Scandinavian form. The verse could refer to a star or constellation named for the god, although it could easily be applied to the god himself, "Tíw...holds troth with athelings...He never betrays."

Tír's phonetic value is t, although in the Younger Futhark it could also be used for d.

Much of  the social structure of Anglo-Saxon England depended upon the sanctity of oaths. Thegns (the predecessors of the mediaeval knights) would be oathed to some lord and lords would be oathed to some king. Indeed, in Beowulf Wiglaf not only derides Beowulf's followers for cowardice when they fail to fight beside their king against the dragon, but for disloyalty to their king as well--as Beowulf's men they were expected to fight and, if necessary, to die beside him. For the system to work ideally, men had to maintain troth (loyalty to those to whom one has sworn an oath). The rune tír appears to govern this principle. "It holds troth well with athelings" and "it never betrays." This should not be surprising for a rune that may have originally been named for Tíw.

Tíw seems to have been a very important god for the Germanic peoples. Though he appears very little in Old Norse sources, place name evidence suggests that he was widely worshipped throughout Northern Europe. Tíw is not only the god of war, but the god of law and the god of thing (the legislative and judicial assemblies of the Germanic peoples) as well. As the god of law he probably governs oaths and loyalty to those oaths as well. Regardless, there can be no doubt that Tíw as god of war grants victory. In fact, it appears that the tune tír was used to call upon him for such. In Sigrdrífumál Sigrdrífa tells SigurðR to carve runes upon his sword  and to call upon Tíw twice if he is to have victory.
 

Old English beorc is the forerunner of modern birch. Its name in Old Norse, bjarkan, also means "birch." The Gothic letter name, bercna, appears to be a cognate of both words. All three derive from a Proto-Germanic *berkana-, meaning "birch."

Beorc's phonetic value is b, although in the Scandinavian rune row it was also used for the spirant v.

Many scholars have long translated the verse for "Birch is fruitless, yet it bears even so, limbs without seeds." Many then concluded that the verse must then refer to a shoot producing tree, such as the poplar, and not the birch as we know it. In The Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem:  a Translation and Commentary, Swain Wodening pointed out that this translation could be wrong. The word bléda, translated as "fruit," could also mean "shoot (as of a tree)." The term túdor, translated as "seeds," could also mean "fruit." Bearing this in mind, the verse could then be translated as I have done so above. In this case the tree described could not be a poplar, for it is shootless. In The Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem:  a Translation and Commentary, Swain Wodening also theorises that the ancient Anglo-Saxons may have differentiated between a fruit and a nut just as we do today. If they did, then the tree would be "fruitless." Quite simply, the verse could be describing a nut bearing tree, such as the birch, which has no shoots and bears no "fruit."

In the minds of the ancient Germanic peoples the birch tree appears to have been associated with fertility. In Cheshire, England it was a custom to hang a birch twig upon one's sweetheart's door on May Day. Birch saplings were sometimes brought inside houses and stables on various holy tides. Birch also played a role in the custom of "beating the bounds" or "riding the marches." This was a custom whereby a circuit would be made of the boundaries of the local village, farmstead, or so on. At various landmarks stops would be made so that young men and women and cattle could be whipped with birch switches. The reason for this given in folklore is, "so that they will remember," although it seems possible that it could have been a way of endowing  the young people and the livestock with the birch's fertility. Of course, there may have been other reasons for the custom as well. Lunatics were also beaten with birch switches in an effort to drive the evil spirits from them.

The rune verse for beorc focuses first on fertility: "Beorc is shootless, it bears even so twigs without fruit." Considering the customs cited above  in which the birch played a role, this should not come as a surprise. It seems that in the minds of the Germanic peoples fertility and the birch were intimately linked. The second part of the verse, however, emphasises the beauty of the tree:  "high in its crown/adorned fairly/ loaded with leaves/ it touches the sky." This is perhaps natural. With regards to trees at least, fertility can be reflected by beauty. After all, a healthy tree is one with several leaves, all of which are a beautiful green.  In other words, a healthy tree is a beautiful tree. And, of course, a healthy tree is a fertile tree. The link between beauty and fertility may also be reflected in  various goddesses. GerðR, Iðunn, and Gefjun are all described as being among the most beautiful goddesses in Norse mythology. They also happen to be goddesses of fertility. The rune  beorc is then at the same time a rune of fertility and a rune of beauty.

In Old English eh meant "horse," usually a war steed. This rune does not appear in the Younger Futhark, though the Gothic letter name eyz may confirm a Proto-Germanic *ehwaz, "horse," as the original name. Eh's phonetic value was e as in end.

The verse for eh presents the war horse as the property of nobles. Today it is easy for us to underestimate the importance of the horse to most ancient peoples. For the farmer the horse was a means of ploughing his fields, hauling wood, hay, and other things necessary to his occupation, and a means of transportation. For nobles the horse was not simply a means of transportation, but a central part of his occupation, as necessary as his sword and lance. A good war steed could very well mean the difference between life and death. For this reason, perhaps, is the war steed an "atheling's joy" and perhaps for this reason is the "horse's hooves proud/when...the wealthy on war steeds converse." Not only do the nobles realise the importance of the horse to themselves, but the horse apparently realises it too. Not only does eh appear to be a rune of happiness for nobles, pride (as in the proud hooves of the war steed), and the exchange of speech, but perhaps a rune of co-operation and interdependency as well. The noble depends upon the horse for the pursuit of his occupation and the horse depends upon the noble for his well being and care. As a rune named for the horse (specifically, the war steed), eh perhaps governs everything which comes to mind when one thinks of horses--travel, the love between a horse and rider, and the battle which sometimes occur when cavalry atop war steeds attack.

It is perhaps significant that the name of the rune wynn appears in the verse for eh (æþelinga wynn, "an atheling's joy"). As the rune of joy, the feeling which often accompanies the man who is secure in his position and has a good home, wynn is perhaps naturally linked to eh. After all, a good war horse not only allowed a noble the freedom to travel, but could guarantee him success in his field as well.

Old English mann is the modern word man, although in Old English it meant "human being (as of either sex)" rather than "male human being." The name for the rune in Old Nose was maðR, which also meant "human being." Mann's phonetic value is m.

Most people reading the verse for mann would think it a rather negative one. After all, though it states that a man is dear to his kinsmen, it also states that they will betray each other once that man dies (as when heirs struggle over the inheritance, something which persists to this day). Many might wish to see in this verse the influence of mediaeval Christianity, which often focused both upon the frailties of man and his mortality. This could well be a mistake, however, as the betrayal of men by those close to them is a recurring theme in Germanic myth. The list of heroes who were betrayed by someone close to them is a long one indeed--SigurõR, Helgi, Wayland, and even Beowulf are but a few. Though the other rune poems do not touch upon the betrayal of men by others, like the Old English Rune Poem they also make reference to his mortality. In both the Old Norwegian Rune Poem and Old Icelandic Rune Poem man is "the increase of dust."

It would be a mistake, however, to believe that the rune verses for mann or the ancient Germanic heathen's view of man was entirely negative. After all, the Old English rune verse for mann begins, "man is mirth/to his kinsmen dear." The Old Icelandic Rune Poem begins with a similar sentiment, "Man is the joy of man." The rune mann is then not the rune of human frailties, but perhaps the rune of everything that is human. That is, it not only includes the black hearted betrayals that sometimes occurred in the old lore (and still occur today presumably), but the love, kinship, and friendship that occur among human beings as well.

Old English lagu meant "water." In the Younger Futhark its Old Norse cognate, lõgR (also meaning "water"), appears as the name of the rune. The Gothic letter name laaz appears to be a cognate of both words.

Despite this W. Krause argued that the original name of the rune was Proto-Germanic *laukaz, "leek." Krause believed that rune names dealt with important aspects of Germanic heathendom. He felt that the leek was particularly significant in heathen religion. As evidence he offered the many Scandinavian runic inscriptions in which the rune occurs with what could be a variant of Old Norse laukR, "leek" and the leek's link to heathen cult practices in Old Norse sources. He believed Old English lagu and Old Norse lõgR were later Christian interpolations (Page, An Introduction to English Runes, pp. 83-83).

Krause's theory does not hold up well under examination. First, most Scandinavian sources confirm lõgR as the rune's name. Second, water or any liquid would appear to have had a greater religious importance for the ancient heathen than the leek. The Well of Wyrd played a central role in Germanic belief if Paul Bauschatz is to believed (simply read his book The Well and the Tree). Similarly, sources from the Roman era and later show that water often played an important role in religious rites. In Tacitus' Germania, for instance, it is told how the slaves who cleansed and cared for Nerthus' wain were drowned as sacrifices to her. Later sources tell of springs sacred to the god Fosite in what is now Helgoland. As water appears to have had  great religious significance for the ancient Germanic peoples, Krause's insistence that Old English lagu and Old Nose lõgR were replacements for an earlier rune name meaning "leek" does not seem viable.

Lagu's phonetic value is l.

Quite clearly the verse for lagu is describing a force of nature over which human beings have no control, in this case the sea. In simple, but elegant, Old English it describes the experience of being upon a ship on a stormy sea.. Anyone who has been on water when the clouds darken, the wind grows fierce, and the waves become rough can readily identify with the fear described in this verse. The lack of control the individuals have over the sea is captured perfectly by the description of the "horse of the waves" (a kenning for "ship") which will not respond to its "bridles" (a metaphor for the rudder or helm).

It is also worth considering that the verse for lagu is nearly the exact opposite of that for sigel. While sigel describes a voyage across a calm sea on a sunny day, the verse for lagu describes a voyage over a rough sea in what could well be a storm. Though both runes deal with forces of nature (sigel with the sun, lagu with the sea), they are somewhat opposed to each other. Sigel appears applicable to forces of nature when they are benign and beneficial to man--the sun that make for a pleasant trip across water. Lagu appears applicable to forces of nature when they are malign and hostile to man--the rough sea which makes for a frightening voyage. Together they give a whole picture of the natural world, one which can benefit man or harm him by turns.

The Old English name Ing would appear to be the name of a hero or god. The name appears in compounds as far back as Tacitus, who names a group of Germanic tribes Ingæones. The Ingæones could be identical to the Ingwines of Beowulf. In Old Norse sources Yngvi is given as a byname of FreyR. A variant of the name, Ingunar FreyR,  is recorded in the Eddic poem Lokkasenna. Ing could then be none other than the god FreyR himself, god of fertility and community.

Despite FreyR's importance among the Old Norse speakers, the rune does not appear in the Younger Futhark. The Gothic letter name was *enguz, confirming that the name of the rune was probably Proto-Germanic *ingwaz. Its phonetic value is ng as in sing.

A recurring motif in the myths of the Germanic peoples is that of the king who arrives as a child on a ship from across the sea. The king generally has a long and prosperous reign and upon death is sent back across the sea. Perhaps the most famous of these myths appears in Beowulf. There we are told how Scyld (known in Old Norse as Skjõld) came to Denmark as a child in a ship filled with treasure. The child later became king and when Scyld died the Danes filled another ship with weapons and sent the king's corpse back across the sea. The Ing verse could describe a similar situation. Ing may have arrived from across the sea, ruled the East Danes for awhile, then went back across the sea, just as Scyld and other kings had (here I must point out, that there is some disagreement as to whether he went eft, "eft, back" or est, "east," as it is unclear whether it is an f or an s in the manuscript--I personally suspect it is eft, which would be more fitting considering these myths).

Supporting the idea that the verse for Ing could be describing the myth of a king who comes across the sea and then goes back across  it could be the fact that an Yngvi is said to have ruled the Swedes and an Ingui appears in the genealogy of the kings of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Bernicia. In addition, FreyR (who bore the byname Yngvi) is also said to have ruled Sweden as a king. It also seems possible that the famous King Fróði of Denmark could have been none other than FreyR himself. One of FreyR's titles was inn fróði, "the wise" or the "fruitful."

Beyond the possibility that Ing could be a name of FreyR is the fact that the verse  makes reference to Ing's wain. Evidence  suggests  that it was a custom among the Germanic peoples to carry an image of a god around the countryside in order to increase the fertility of the crops for the coming year. The most famous instance of this is described in Tacitus' Germania, where Tacitus tells how various Germanic tribes would carry the goddess Nerthus' image about in a wain. Later we see a similar ritual described in the Icelandic Flateyjarbók, where it tells how a wain carrying FreyR's idol would travel about the Swedish countryside (Wodening, Gods of the World, pp. 38-39). Archaeological evidence of this may exist in the form of an ornate chariot found at Dejbjerg, Denmark which is generally agreed to have been built for ritual rather than practical use. This makes it quite possible that in mentioning Ing's wain, the verse for Ing referring to this custom.

As a rune which could be linked to the god  FreyR and one whose verse possibly makes reference to the ritual of carrying his image about in a wain, Ing would appear to be a rune of fertility and growth. The possibility that the verse for Ing is describing a myth in which a king arrives from across the sea, has a long and prosperous reign, and then returns across the sea (presumably to be replaced by another king) makes it likely that it is also the rune of the cycle of life (the king is dead, long live the king). Regardless, it seems clear that the meaning of the rune Ing can probably be found in an examination of the god FreyR and the various myths of the Germanic peoples of kings who came from across the sea.

Old English dæg is the modern word day.  The rune is not found in the Younger Futhark, although the Gothic letter name daaz perhaps confirm that its original name was Proto-Germanic *dagaz, "day." Its phonetic value is d or ð.

Many scholars have thought that the verse for dæg must have been Christianised, interpreting the Old English word dryhten as a reference to the Christian God as well as the term Metod. This need not be the case, however, as the title dryhten  would seem just as fitting, if not more so, for the god Wóden. As to the word Metod, it appears to have been used for Wyrd in Old English, just as its cognate in Old Norse MjõtudR . Both words literally mean "measurer, one that measures."

It is here that we should discuss some of the superstitions of the Germanic peoples. Like many ancient peoples they regarded night as a dangerous time. It was a time when evil spirits were abroad and sorcerers came out to do their evil deeds. And, of course, then as today, it was the time when anyone intending mischief was most likely to carry it out. For that reason day was "dear to men," "mirth and hope." It was a time when men were, relatively speaking, safe from harm. To a degree this could be why day is said to be the messenger of the Drighten (whether he is the Christian God or Wóden). With the coming of the day the forces of evil abate for a time and men are reminded of the presence of God.

Of course, day is also a measurement of time. Metod or Wyrd is the force which governs time and causality. As a  means of measuring the passage of time, the flow of the present entering the Well of Wyrd to become the past, the day could easily be called "Metod's shining light." It would then be a beacon of sorts by which men could record the occurrence of events and the passage of time.

Finally, day is something for rich and poor to enjoy. Quite simply, day comes not simply for a given few, but for everyone. This appears to be a variation on the same theme expressed in the Christian Bible, Matthew chapter 5 verse 45: " That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." Despite this rather famous quote, however, this is not merely a Christian theme. The idea that nature affects all human beings whether rich or poor would appear to be a universal, so that its appearance in the Old English Rune Poem need not be due to Christian influence.

The rune dæg would then appear to govern that light which makes men safe from evil, the means by which we can measure time, and the principle that no man holds a monopoly on nature.

Éþel meant "land, ancestral property." The rune is not found in the Younger Futhark. The Gothic letter name utal confirms that the original name of the rune was perhaps Proto-Germanic *óþila, "land, ancestral property."

Éþel's original phonetic value was a long o, as in note. In Old English the long o eventually evolved into a é sound (the a as in way).

For modern day man, particularly for Americans, the importance of the home has decreased. Due to pressures from work and so on, many people find themselves moving every so many years, leaving them with an attachment for single place. This was not the case in ancient times. Land was perhaps the most valuable single commodity for the ancient Germanic peoples and the man who owned large tracts of land was considered richer than the travelling peddler with bags full of gold. Traditionally land was passed down along family lines and the laws of most Germanic peoples favoured this tradition nearly to the exclusion of all else. Among many of the Germanic tribes if land was sold outside the family, the kin had the right to buy it back within a certain amount of time. In some places they could pay as little as one fifth the price for which it had been sold. To a small degree the high regard individuals of Germanic descent had for land, particularly land which had been passed down through the generations, never entirely died out. During the farm crisis in America of the Eighties, the horror of many farmers forfeiting their land to the banks was not not that they were simply losing property or their livelihood, but that they were losing their birthright, land which had been passed from father to son for ages.

Of course, the verse for éþel also expresses the idea that owning land is not enough. One must also be able to enjoy prosperity in his house often. Land which fails to produce enough crops or is constantly being ravaged by neighbouring tribes would not be a fit home for anyone, even if it had been passed down family lines for generations. The message of this verse could then be that it is not enough to own something of value, one must be able to get use of it as well.

As the rune of ancestral lands, éþel perhaps governs all that we inherit from our forebears, our birthright if you will. Given its statement regarding men having opportunity to enjoy in his home prosperity often, it could also govern prosperity and perhaps opportunities for such as well.