the poetical works of john skelton

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Page xix - Englysshe not in rude and olde langage, but in polysshed and ornate termes craftely, as he that hath redde Vyrgyle, Ouyde, Tullye, and all the other noble poetes and oratours to me vnknowen.
Page 28 - My lafe, she sayd, rowtyth * in hys bed : I wys he hath a hevy hed, Wyth Hey, lullay, &c. What dremyst thou, drunchard, drowsy pate ! Thy lust 5 and lykyng is from the" gone : Thou blynkerd blowboll ', thou wakyst to late ; Behold thou lyeste, luggard, alone ! Well may thou sygh, well may thou grone, To dele wyth her so cowardly : I wys, powle hachet, she bleryd thyne I 7.
Page xxi - Which writeth matters with curiositee. Mine habite blacke accordeth not with grene, Blacke betokeneth death as it is dayly sene ; The grene is pleasour, freshe lust and iolite ; These two in nature hath great diuersitie.
Page 52 - Wyth that came Ryotte, russhynge all at ones, A rusty gallande, to-ragged and to-rente ; And on the borde he whyrled a payre of bones, Quater treye dews...
Page 27 - With Lullay, lullay, lyke a chylde Thou slepyst to long, thou art begylde. My darlyng dere, my daysy floure, Let me, quod he, ly in your lap. Ly styll, quod she, my paramoure, Ly styll hardely, and take a nap. Hys hed was hevy, such was his hap, All drowsy, dremyng, dround in slepe, That of hys love he toke no kepe. With Hey, lullay, &c. With ba, ba, ba, and bas, bas, bas, She cheryshed hym both cheke and chyn, That he wyst neuer where he was : He had forgotten all dedely syn.
Page 58 - Naye, see where yonder stondeth the teder man ! A flaterynge knaue and false he is, God wote ; The dreuyll stondeth to herken, and he can : It were more thryft, he boughte him a newe cote; It will not be, his purse is not on flote : All that he wereth, it is borowed ware ; His wytte is thynne, his hode is threde bare.
Page 73 - Many a prety kusse Had I of his swete musse ; And now the cause is thus, That he is slayne me fro, To my great payne and wo. Of fortune this the chaunce Standeth on varyaunce : Oft tyme after pleasaunce Trouble and greuaunce ; No man can be sure 370 Allway to haue pleasure : 1 Kitson's ed.
Page 66 - Reportynge the vertues all Of my sparowe royall. For it wold come and go And fly so to and fro; And on me it wolde lepe Whan I was aslepe, And his fethers shake, Wherewith he wolde make Me often for to wake, And for to take him in Upon my naked skyn; God wot, we thought no syn : slo, slay.
Page lxxv - Nowe, sayd the Welshman, wryte, more dryncke. What now ? sayde Skelton. Wryte nowe, a great deale of dryncke. Nowe, sayd the Welshman, putte to all thys dryncke a littell crome of breade, and a great deale of drynke to it, and reade once agayne. Skelton dyd reade, Dryncke, more dryncke, & a great deale of dryncke, and a lytle crome of breade, and a great deale of dryncke to it.
Page 64 - And from Medusa that mare That lyke a fende doth stare And from Megeras edders For rufflynge of Phillips fethers And from her fyry sparklynges For burnynge of his wynges And from the smokes sowre Of Proserpinas bowre And from the dennes darke Wher Cerberus doth barke Whom Theseus dyd afraye Whom Hercules dyd outraye As famous poetes say From that...

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