Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LAMENT FOR THE MAKARIS [WHEN HE WAS SEIK], by WILLIAM DUNBAR



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LAMENT FOR THE MAKARIS [WHEN HE WAS SEIK], by             Poet's Biography
First Line: I that in heill [or, heal] was and glaidness [or, gladness].
Last Line: Timor mortis conturbat me.
Variant Title(s): Dunbar's Lament When He Was Sick;the Fear Of Death Confounds Me;timor Mortis Conturbat Me
Subject(s): Death; Holidays; Mourning; New Year; Dead, The; Bereavement


I that in heill wes and glaidness,
Am trublit now with gret seikness,
And feblit with infirmitie;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Our plesance heir is all vane glory
This fals Warld is bot transitory
The flesche is brukle, the Feynd is sle;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

The stait of Man dois change and vary
Now sound, now seik, now blyth, now sary,
Now dansand mirry, now like to die;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

No Stait in Erd heir standis sicker,
As with the wynd wavis the wickir,
So wavis this warldis vanite;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Unto the Deid gois all Estaitis
Princis, Prellattis, and Potestaitis,
Baith riche and puire of all degre;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He takis the knychtis in to feild,
Anarmit under helme and scheild,
Victour he is at all mellie;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

* * *

I see that Makaris amang the laif
Playis heir thair padyanis, syne gois to graif;
Spairit is nocht thair faculte;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He hes done peteouslie devour
The noble Chawcer of makaris flouir
The Monk of Bery, and Gower, all thre;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

* * *

He hes Blind Hary, and Sandy Traill
Slaine with his schot of mortall haill
Quhilk Patrick Johnestoun mycht nocht fle;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He hes reft Merseir his endyte,
That did in luve so lifly write,
So schort, so quyk, of sentence hie;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He hes tane Roull of Abirdene,
And gentil Roull of Corstorphine;
Two bettir fallowis did no man se;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

In Dumfermelyne he hes tane Brown
With Maister Robert Henrisoun
Schir Johne the Ross embraist hes he;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

And he hes now tane, last of aw,
Gud gentill Stobo and Quintyne Schaw
Of quhome all wichtis hes petie;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Gud Maister Walter Kennedy,
In poynt of dede Iyis veraly,
Gret reuth it were that so suld be;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Sen he has all my Brether tane,
He will nocht lat me leif alane,
On forse I mon his nyxt pray be;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Sen for the Deid remeid is non,
Best is that we for deid dispone,
Eftir our deid that leif may we;
Timor Mortis conturbat me.







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