Poems » amy levy » swarte smekyd smethes


Swarte smekyd smethes, smateryd wyth smoke,
Dryue me to deth wyth den of here dyntes.
Swech noys on nyghtes ne herd men neuer.
What knauene cry and clateryng of knockes!
The cammede kongons cryen after "col, col!"
And blowen here bellewys, that al here brayn brestes.
"Huf, puf!" seyth that on; "haf, paf!" that other.
Thei spytten and spraulyn and spellyn many spelles.
Thei gnauen and gnacchen, thei gronys togydere
And holdyn hem hote wyth here hard hamers.
Of a bole hyde ben here barm-fellys.
Here schankes ben schakeled for the fere-flunderys.
Heuy hamerys thei han, that hard ben handled.
Stark strokes thei stryken on a stelyd stokke.
Lus, bus! las, das! rowtyn be rowe.
Swech dolful a dreme the deuyl it todryue!
The mayster longith a lityl, and lascheth a lesse,
Twyneth hem tweyn, and towchith a treble.
Tik, tak! hic, hac! tiket, taket! tyk, tak!
Lus, bus! lus, das! Swych lyf thei ledyn,
Alle clothemerys, Cryst hem gyue sorwe!
May no man for brenwaterys on nyght han hys rest!