I think you should take careful note of: no þon lange wæs/ feorh
P.McManuses :)
On 11 September 2012 15:41, Patrick McManus
<[log in to unmask]>wrote:
> :-)
> P Gesæt ða on næsse
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
> Behalf Of David Bircumshaw
> Sent: 11 September 2012 10:23
> To: [log in to unmask]
> Subject: Re: Samizdat Tom
>
> The chorus has been omitted, Patrick. I have though only just made this
> discovery, in an Anglo-Saxon text, of you by name! What can it mean?
> Gesæt ða on næsse niðheard cyning,
> þenden hælo abead heorðgeneatum,
> goldwine Geata. Him wæs geomor sefa,
> wæfre ond wælfus, wyrd ungemete neah,
> se ðone gomelan gretan sceolde,
> secean sawle hord, sundur gedælan
> lif wið lice, no þon lange wæs
> feorh P.McManuses flæsce bewunden.
> On 11 September 2012 09:14, Patrick McManus
> <[log in to unmask]>wrote:
>
> > Actually I can see that Mr Hamilton wrote this -he's having you
> > on!!you can tell by his terrible spelling Patrick and nowe I sing &c :
> > Ps what is the refrain?is it the first verse??
> >
> > -----Original Message-----
> > From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]]
> > On Behalf Of David Bircumshaw
> > Sent: 11 September 2012 06:56
> > To: [log in to unmask]
> > Subject: Samizdat Tom
> >
> > Courtesy of Mr Hamilton again, and the British Museum, here is a
> > transcription of the earliest surviving manuscript of Tom a Bedlam.
> >
> > *A Tom a Bedlam Song *(1616) - *Giles Earle His Booke*
> >
> >
> >
> > Transcript based on the text in *Loving Mad Tom, *checked
> > against a facsimile
> >
> > of the MS, with contractions expanded.
> >
> >
> >
> > 1
> >
> >
> >
> > From the hagg and hungry Goblin,
> >
> > that into raggs would rend yee,
> >
> > and the spirit that stand's by the naked man
> >
> > in the booke of moones defend yee
> >
> > That of your fiue sounde sences,
> >
> > You never be forsaken,
> >
> > Nor wander from your selues with Tom,
> >
> > abroad to begg your bacon
> >
> > while I doe sing any foode, any feeding,
> >
> > feedinge--drinke or clothing,
> >
> > Come dame or maid, be not afraid
> >
> > poore Tom will iniure nothing.
> >
> >
> >
> > 2
> >
> >
> >
> > Of thirty bare yeares haue I
> >
> > twice twenty bin enraged,
> >
> > and of forty bin three tymes fifteene
> >
> > in durance soundlie caged,
> >
> > On the lordlie loftes of Bedlam
> >
> > with stubble softe and dainty,
> >
> > braue braceletts strong, sweet whips ding dong,
> >
> > with wholesome hunger plenty,
> >
> > and nowe I sing &c :
> >
> >
> >
> > 3
> >
> >
> >
> > With a thought I tooke for Maudline
> >
> > and a cruse of Cockle pottage,
> >
> > with a thing thus tall, skie blesse you all :
> >
> > I befell into this dotage.
> >
> > I slept not since the Conquest
> >
> > till then I never waked,
> >
> > Till the rogysh boy of loue where I lay
> >
> > mee found and strip't mee naked.
> >
> > and nowe I sing &c :
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > 4
> >
> >
> >
> > When I short haue shorne my sowce face
> >
> > And swigg'd my horny barrell,
> >
> > In an oken Inne I pound my skin
> >
> > as a suite of guilt apparrell
> >
> > The moon's my constant Mistresse,
> >
> > and the lowlie owle my morrowe.
> >
> > The flaming Drake and the Nightcrowe make
> >
> > mee musicke to my sorrowe.
> >
> > while I doe sing &c :
> >
> >
> >
> > 5
> >
> >
> >
> > The palsie plagues my pulses
> >
> > when I prigg your piggs or pullen
> >
> > your culuirs take, or matchles make
> >
> > your Chanticleare, or sullen
> >
> > When I want prouant with Humfrie
> >
> > I sup, and when benighted,
> >
> > I repose in Powles with waking soules
> >
> > Yet neuer am affrighted.
> >
> > But I doe sing &c :
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > 6
> >
> >
> >
> > I knowe more then Apollo,
> >
> > for oft when hee ly's sleeping
> >
> > I see the starrs att bloudie warres
> >
> > in the wounded welkin weeping
> >
> > The moone embrace her shepheard
> >
> > and the queene of loue her warryer,
> >
> > while the first doth horne the star of morne :
> >
> > and the next the heauenly Farrier.
> >
> > While I doe sing &c :
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > 7
> >
> >
> >
> > The Gipsie snap and Pedro
> >
> > are none of Tom's Comradoes
> >
> > the punck I skorne and the cutpurse sworn
> >
> > and the roring boyes bravadoes,
> >
> > The meeke the white the gentle,
> >
> > me handle touch, and spare not.
> >
> > but those that crosse Tom Rynosseross
> >
> > doe what the Panther dare not.
> >
> > Although I sing &c :
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > 8
> >
> >
> >
> > with an hoast of furious fancies
> >
> > whereof I am comaunder
> >
> > with a burning speare and a horse of aire,
> >
> > to the wildernesse I wander.
> >
> > By a knight of ghostes and shadowes
> >
> > I sumon'd am to Tourney.
> >
> > ten leagues beyond the wild worlds end.
> >
> > mee thinke it is noe journey
> >
> > yet will I sing &c :
> >
> >
> >
> > --
> > David Joseph Bircumshaw
> > **
> > Website and A Chide's Alphabet
> > http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk
> > The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html
> > Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw
> > twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave
> > blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/
> > Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.com
> >
>
>
>
> --
> David Joseph Bircumshaw
> **
> Website and A Chide's Alphabet
> http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk
> The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html
> Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw
> twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave
> blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/
> Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.com
>
--
David Joseph Bircumshaw
**
Website and A Chide's Alphabet
http://www.staplednapkin.org.uk
The Animal Subsides http://www.arrowheadpress.co.uk/books/animal.html
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/david.bircumshaw
twitter: http://twitter.com/bucketshave
blog: http://groggydays.blogspot.com/
Leicester Poetry Society: http://www.poetryleicester.com
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