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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. Eclogue The First
  5. Elegy On The Death Of Mr. Phillips


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