Poem by Thomas Chatterton

Epitaph on Robert Canynge

THYS mornynge starre of Radcleves rysynge raie,
A true manne good of mynde and Canynge hyghte,
Benethe thys stone lies moltrynge ynto daie,
Untylle the darke tombe sheene an eterne lyghte.
Thyrde fromme hys loynes the present Canynge came;
Houton are wordes for to telle hys doe;
For aye shall lyve hys heaven-recorded name,
Ne shall yt dye whanne tyme shalle bee no moe;
Whanne Mychael's trumpe shall sounde to rise the solle,
He'll wynge to heavn wyth kynne, and happie bee hys dolle. 

1. Chorus from Goddwyn
2. The Copernican System
3. Onn Oure Ladies Chyrche
4. Eclogue the Third
5. The Accounte of W. Canynges Feast

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