| Lauda, anima
mea, Dominum! |
| To weep with me look that ye come |
| All manner of birdės in your kind; |
| See none be left behind |
| To mourning look that ye fall |
| With dolorous songs funeral, |
| Some to sing, and some to say, |
| Some to weep, and some to pray, |
| Every bird in his lay. |
| The goldfinch, the wagtail; |
| The jangling jay to rail, |
| The fleckčd pie to chatter |
| Of this dolorous matter; |
| And robin redbreast, |
| He shall be the priest |
| The requiem mass to sing, |
| Softly warbeling, |
| With help of the red-sparrow, |
| And the chattering swallow, |
| This hearse for to hallow; |
| The lark with his long toe; |
| The spink, and the martinet alsó; |
| The shoveller with his broad beak; |
| The dotterel, that foolish peke, |
| And also the mad coot, |
| With a bald face to toot; |
| The fieldfare and the snite; |
| The crow and the kite; |
| The raven, called Rolfė, |
| His plain-song to sol-fa; |
| The partridge, the quail; |
| The plover with us to wail; |
| The woodhack, that singeth ‘chur’ |
| Hoarsely, as he had the mur; |
| The lusty chanting nightingale; |
| The popinjay to tell her tale, |
| That toteth oft in a glass, |
| Shall read the Gospel at mass; |
| The mavis with her whistle |
| Shall read there the Pistle. |
| But with a large and a long |
| To keep just plain-song, |
| Our chanters shall be the cuckoo, |
| The culver, the stockdowe, |
| With ‘peewit’ the lapwing, |
The Versicles shall sing.
|
| The bittern with
his bumpė, |
| The crane with his trumpė, |
| The swan of Maeander, |
| The goose and the gander, |
| The duck and the drake, |
| Shall watch at this wake; |
| The peacock so proud, |
| Because his voice is loud, |
| And hath a glorious tail, |
| He shall sing the Grail; |
| The owl, that is so foul, |
| Must help us to howl; |
| The heron so gaunt, |
| And the cormorant, |
| With the pheasant, |
| And the gaggling gant, |
| And the churlish chough; |
| The knot and the ruff; |
| The barnacle, the buzzard, |
| With the wild mallard; |
| The divendop to sleep; |
| The water-hen to weep; |
| The puffin and the teal |
| Money they shall deal |
| To poorė folk at large, |
| That shall be their charge; |
| The seamew and the titmouse; |
| The woodcock with the longė nose; |
| The throstle with her warbling; |
| The starling with her brabling; |
| The rook, with the osprey |
| That putteth fishes to a fray; |
| And the dainty curlew, |
With the turtle most true.
|
| At this Placebo |
| We may not well forgo |
| The countering of the coe; |
| The stork alsó, |
| That maketh his nest |
| In chimneys to rest; |
| Within those walls |
| No broken galls |
| May there abide |
| Of cuckoldry side, |
| Or else philosophy |
Maketh a great lie.
|
| The ostrich, that will eat |
| An horseshoe so great, |
| In the stead of meat, |
| Such fervent heat |
| His stomach doth fret; |
| He cannot well fly, |
| Nor sing tunably, |
| Yet at a brayd |
| He hath well assayed |
| To sol-far above E-la. |
| Fa, lorell, fa, fa! |
| Ne quando |
| Male cantando, |
| The best that we can, |
| To make him our bell-man, |
| And let him ring the bells. |
He can do nothing else.
|
| Chanticleer, our
cock, |
| Must tell what is of the clock |
| By the astrology |
| That he hath naturally |
| Conceivėd and caught, |
| And was never taught |
| By Albumazer |
| The astronomer, |
| Nor by Ptolomy |
| Prince of astronomy, |
| Nor yet by Haly ; |
| And yet he croweth daily |
| And nightly the tides |
| That no man abides, |
| With Partlot his hen, |
| Whom now and then |
| He plucketh by the head |
When he doth her tread.
|
| The bird of Araby, |
| That potentially |
| May never die, |
| And yet there is none |
| But one alone; |
| A phoenix it is |
| This hearse that must bless |
| With aromatic gums |
| That cost great sums, |
| The way of thurification |
| To make fumigation, |
| Sweet of reflare, |
| And redolent of air, |
| This corse for to cense |
| With great reverence, |
| As Patriarch or Pope |
| In a black cope. |
| While he censeth the hearse, |
| He shall sing the verse, |
| Liber a me, |
| In de, la, sol, re, |
| Softly B molle |
| For my sparrow’s soul. |
| Pliny sheweth all |
| In his Story Natural |
| What he doth find |
| Of this phoenix kind; |
| Of whose incineration |
| There riseth a new creation |
| Of the same fashion |
| Without alteration, |
| Saving that old age |
| Is turned into corage |
| Of fresh youth again; |
| This matter true and plain, |
| Plain matter indeed, |
Who so list to read.
|
| But for the eagle
doth fly |
| Highest in the sky, |
| He shall be the sub-dean, |
| The choir to demean, |
| As provost principal, |
| To teach them their Ordinal; |
| Also the noble falcon, |
| With the ger-falcon, |
| The tarsel gentil, |
| They shall mourn soft and still |
| In their amice of gray; |
| The saker with them shall say |
| Dirige for Philip’s soul; |
| The goshawk shall have a roll |
| The choristers to control; |
| The lanners and the merlins |
| Shall stand in their mourning-gowns; |
| The hobby and the musket |
| The censers and the cross shall fet; |
| The kestrel in all this wark |
Shall be holy-water clerk.
|
| And now the dark
cloudy night |
| Chaseth away Phoebus bright, |
| Taking his course toward the west, |
| God send my sparrow’s soul good rest! |
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine!. . .
|
| John Skelton
| Classic Poems |
| |
|
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