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Poem by Thomas Chatterton


The Accounte Of W. Canynges Feast


THOROWE the halle the belle han sounde;
Byelecoyle doe the Grave beseeme;
The ealdermenne doe sytte arounde,
Ande snoffelle oppe the cheorte steeme.
Lyche asses wylde ynne desarte waste
Swotelye the morneynge ayre doe taste.
Syke keene theie ate; the minitrels plaie,
The dynne of angelles doe theie keepe;
Heie stylle the guestes ha ne to saie,
Butte nodde yer thankes ande falle aslape.
Thus echone daie bee I to deene,
Gyf Rowley, Iscamm, or Tyb. Gorges be ne seene. 



                      Thomas Chatterton


Thomas Chatterton's other poems:
  1. Chorus from Goddwyn
  2. On The Same (Oure Ladies Chyrche)
  3. On The Last Epiphany (Or Christ Coming To Judgment)
  4. Colin Instructed
  5. Eclogue The First


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