Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916.

Lament for the Makaris

William Dunbar (1460?–1520?)

I THAT in heill was and glaidness

Am trublit now with great seikness

And feblit with infirmitie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Our plesance heir is all vain glory,

This fals world is but transitory,

The flesh is brukle, the Feynd is slee:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

The state of man does change and vary,

Now sound, now sick, now blyth, now sary,

Now dansand mirry, now like to die:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

No state in Erd heir standis sicker;

As with the wynd wavis the wicker

So wavis this world’s vanitie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Unto the Deid gois all Estatis,

Princis, Prelattis, and Potestatis,

Baith rich and poor of all degre:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He takis the Knychtis in to feild

Enarmit under helm and scheild;

Victour he is at all mellie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

That strang unmercifull tyrand

Takis, on the motheris breast sowkand,

The babe full of benignitie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He takis the campioun in the stour,

The captain closit in the tour,

The lady in bour full of bewtie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He spairis no lord for his piscence

Na clerk for his intelligence;

His awfull straik may no man flee:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Art-magicianis and astrologis,

Rethoris, logicianis, and theologis,

Them helpis no conclusionis slee:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

In medecyne the most practicianis,

Leechis, surrigianis and physicianis,

Themself fra Death may nocht supplee:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

I see that makaris amang the lave

Playis here their padyanis, syne gois to grave;

Spairit is nocht their facultie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He hes done petuously devour

The noble Chaucer, of makaris flour,

The Monk of Bury, and Gower, all three:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

The gude Sir Hew of Eglintoun,

Ettrick, Heriot, and Wyntoun,

He has tane out of this cuntrie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

That scorpion fell hes done infeck

Maister John Clerk, and James Afflek,

Fra ballat-making and tragedie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Holland and Barbour he has berevit;

Alas! that he not with us levit

Sir Mungo Lockart of the Lee:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Clerk of Tranent eke he hes tane,

That made the awnteris of Gawane;

Sir Gilbert Hay endit hes he:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He hes Blind Harry and Sandy Traill

Slain with his schour of mortal hail,

Quhilk Patrick Johnstoun might nocht flee:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He has reft Merseir his endyte

That did in luve so lively write,

So short, so quick, of sentence hie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He has tane Rowll of Abirdene,

And gentill Rowll of Corstorphine;

Two better fallowis did no man see:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

In Dumfermelyne he has tane Broun

With Maister Robert Henrysoun;

Sir John the Ross enbrasit hes he:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

And he hes now tane, last of a,

Good gentil Stobo and Quintyne Shaw,

Of quhom all wichtis hes pitie:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Good Maister Walter Kennedy

In poynt of dede lies verily;

Great ruth it were that so suld be:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Sen he hes all my brothers tane,

He will nocht let me live alane;

Of force I mon his next prey be:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Since for the death remeid is none,

Best is that we for death dispone

After our death that live may we:—

Timor Mortis conturbat me.