Poetry. John Skelton

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Poetry - John Skelton

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target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_e7cb6637-da2d-5589-97d4-91b32aaf7c1d">[157] may] MS. “myzt.”

      “Now is ther no helpe but pray for my sovle.”

      “What ys it to trust the mutabylyte

      Of this world whan no thyng may endure.”

      “And more to encrese was myne entent

      And not beynge ware who shuld it ocupye.”

      “Wynsore and eton and many oder mo

      As Westmynster Eltham and sone went I from all.”

      And so, with slight variation, in Nash’s Quaternio: see notes.

      “Now are we departid [i.e. parted] onto domys day.”

      “For nought would conserue mee here in this place.”

      MS.:

      “Ne nougt wold concerue me my place.”

       Table of Contents

       Ad dominum properato meum, mea pagina, Percy,

       Qui Northumbrorum jura paterna gerit;

       Ad nutum celebris tu prona repone leonis

       Quæque suo patri tristia justa cano.[183]

       Ast ubi perlegit, dubiam sub mente volutet

       Fortunam, cuncta quæ malefida rotat.

       Qui leo sit felix, et Nestoris occupet annos;

       Ad libitum, cujus ipse paratus ero.

      [183] cano] So MS. Not in Marshe’s ed.

       VPON THE

       DOULOUR[U]S DETHE AND MUCHE LAMENTABLE CHAUNCE OF THE MOST HONORABLE ERLE OF NORTHUMBERLANDE.

      

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