"downe" poems - Hello Poetry

Och! Airn an' Thwndir! An' Urquhart's Wae Verra Hel! Great Warlike Glamis' Firey, An' Hwmyd Loch Doon's Orrah! Downe! Downe! tae thad howch owre miserable! Ye a' swithe hame, hame! wae ma Airn *** An' weile 'yont yondir Suthron! Waefu', waefu' heyre Ah! War-Ironclad heyne Ȝell, Wae burr-thistle’s Gowlin’ Storne Micht! Frae ma verra, verra! Ah ageyne! Tae the Cauld Enraged Wynde Unco! intae Æternall Battle Scorchin' Towardis Moorlan Chain Mail-Bosom o' mine! O'er an' o'er IT! increasingly thro' Force returnin', Wae ma verra Blacklyn Tartan o' War heyne, An' Silvery Brooch, wi'in yondir Lone Sceadewe! Unco! wae the Rubye Stane deep-shimmerin' Naixt tae Carham's Gory Landis, an' the Targe-Hell, Thro’ nowe Tune Martial, stick-an-stowe Ȝell! Airn-Curse Core-Firey, Hye-Flamin' IT! Heyne unco rychte Airn-Moorlan o'er ye a'! Ah, bye nowe the FEUDAL OWAR-MANN! 'Yont thad Auld Whunstane Tower-Shrine Togider wae Lang Titanium-Claymore, Airn-Dazzlin' An' ne'er, ne'er, IT! stick-an-stowe tae wane! Wi'in theis Bluish Fyre syne! Verra War-Swaird Rairan IT, Intae Thae Hringiren Æternall, Thwndir-Devastatin' o' mine! QVOAD FEODALE MEA CVM RVBRA SPATHA ET RELVCENTE HOC SCVTO AC FVLMINE NIVEO SCOTORVM INTRA HANC TEMPESTATEM MAGNAM QVÆ FLOS IGNEVS EST TONITRVO NOMINE ALTO NEMO GELIDO HOC LOCO IMPVNE ME LACESSIT.

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Oct 1, 2020

Oct 1, 2020 at 4:42 AM UTC

hermes-varini

Gowlin’ Storne

Och! Airn an' Thwndir! An' Urquhart's Wae Verra Hel! Great Warlike Glamis' Firey, An' Hwmyd Loch Doon's Orrah! Downe! Downe! tae thad howch owre miserable! Ye a' swithe hame, hame! wae ma Airn *** An' weile 'yont yondir Suthron! Waefu', waefu' heyre Ah! War-Ironclad heyne Ȝell, Wae burr-thistle’s Gowlin’ Storne Micht! Frae ma verra, verra! Ah ageyne! Tae the Cauld Enraged Wynde Unco! intae Æternall Battle Scorchin' Towardis Moorlan Chain Mail-Bosom o' mine! O'er an' o'er IT! increasingly thro' Force returnin', Wae ma verra Blacklyn Tartan o' War heyne, An' Silvery Brooch, wi'in yondir Lone Sceadewe! Unco! wae the Rubye Stane deep-shimmerin' Naixt tae Carham's Gory Landis, an' the Targe-Hell, Thro’ nowe Tune Martial, stick-an-stowe Ȝell! Airn-Curse Core-Firey, Hye-Flamin' IT! Heyne unco rychte Airn-Moorlan o'er ye a'! Ah, bye nowe the FEUDAL OWAR-MANN! 'Yont thad Auld Whunstane Tower-Shrine Togider wae Lang Titanium-Claymore, Airn-Dazzlin' An' ne'er, ne'er, IT! stick-an-stowe tae wane! Wi'in theis Bluish Fyre syne! Verra War-Swaird Rairan IT, Intae Thae Hringiren Æternall, Thwndir-Devastatin' o' mine! QVOAD FEODALE MEA CVM RVBRA SPATHA ET RELVCENTE HOC SCVTO AC FVLMINE NIVEO SCOTORVM INTRA HANC TEMPESTATEM MAGNAM QVÆ FLOS IGNEVS EST TONITRVO NOMINE ALTO NEMO GELIDO HOC LOCO IMPVNE ME LACESSIT.

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With coarsest sackecloth cloathe my naked soule; Construct for me a throne of ashes blacke; Place on my lying lipps a liuing coal; Cast me asea inside a sackcloth sacke; I am a rocke of great offence, a rocke As stonie-hearted as a stvmbling blocke. Not any man hath greater loue than this, That hee should for his friend laye downe his life; But I betray'd my friend without a kisse And stabb'd into his backe a butter knife; And hee who loues his life his life shall lose, And I, by loving life, my death did chuse.

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Mar 26, 2024

Mar 26, 2024 at 12:24 PM UTC

Christian

The Lost Stanza of "Saint Peter's Complaint" by Robert Southwell

With coarsest sackecloth cloathe my naked soule; Construct for me a throne of ashes blacke; Place on my lying lipps a liuing coal; Cast me asea inside a sackcloth sacke; I am a rocke of great offence, a rocke As stonie-hearted as a stvmbling blocke. Not any man hath greater loue than this, That hee should for his friend laye downe his life; But I betray'd my friend without a kisse And stabb'd into his backe a butter knife; And hee who loues his life his life shall lose, And I, by loving life, my death did chuse.

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Och! Airn an’ Thundir! Great Orrah! Ere ye a' sune an’ syne fast, verra fast *** Wae Verra Skye-Storne Hye, Skye-Unleashed, IT! Clitheroe's Gory Orrah! Frae mah Burnan’ Skye-Rage, An' unco Airn-Curse o’er ye a', Downe, downe! owre downe! Theis Moorlan Firey Grass flyin’, Dinna Daur! Ah say, Dinna Daur! Tae mah Verra Skye-Roaran’ An' Skye-Furious Bellum, Guid Orrah! Nae tae baith nowe listen! Nor tae set futis ageyne, Ah say! Wae yer unco dishonorable duds, Oan Theis Verra Nobil Glamis’ Hal’, Kingdom o' Scotland IT, Airn-Auld, Robert th' Bruce Micht, Ironclad, her Ruler, wae Wois Loud! Fore, ne’er, ne’er, Ah skye-yell; AH UNCO WADNA! AH UNCO WADNA! Great Guid, Verra Guid Orrah! Wae mah Bleezan Skye-Blade o’ War, An’ Verra, Verra Guid Gilded Targe, Auldfarran, juist twich ye a'! Whene'er, an’ unco fore’er, Intae THEIS DEEP LOCH O' RID HEL, An' thro' yondir War-Thundir, och! Wae mah Skye-Skean steel-fechtin’.

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Nov 2, 2020

Nov 2, 2020 at 4:08 AM UTC

hermes-varini

Unco Wadna

Och! Airn an’ Thundir! Great Orrah! Ere ye a' sune an’ syne fast, verra fast *** Wae Verra Skye-Storne Hye, Skye-Unleashed, IT! Clitheroe's Gory Orrah! Frae mah Burnan’ Skye-Rage, An' unco Airn-Curse o’er ye a', Downe, downe! owre downe! Theis Moorlan Firey Grass flyin’, Dinna Daur! Ah say, Dinna Daur! Tae mah Verra Skye-Roaran’ An' Skye-Furious Bellum, Guid Orrah! Nae tae baith nowe listen! Nor tae set futis ageyne, Ah say! Wae yer unco dishonorable duds, Oan Theis Verra Nobil Glamis’ Hal’, Kingdom o' Scotland IT, Airn-Auld, Robert th' Bruce Micht, Ironclad, her Ruler, wae Wois Loud! Fore, ne’er, ne’er, Ah skye-yell; AH UNCO WADNA! AH UNCO WADNA! Great Guid, Verra Guid Orrah! Wae mah Bleezan Skye-Blade o’ War, An’ Verra, Verra Guid Gilded Targe, Auldfarran, juist twich ye a'! Whene'er, an’ unco fore’er, Intae THEIS DEEP LOCH O' RID HEL, An' thro' yondir War-Thundir, och! Wae mah Skye-Skean steel-fechtin’.

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"THE SMALLE RAYNE DOWNE CAN RAYNE?" You bloom in my mind like a fast forward film of a flower going from seed to blossom in a second or seven I looking down from on high as you pass by under the bridge you " no bigger than your head" that line from Lear a chestnut red flowing over your shoulders you the only one with head uncovered everyone else suddenly become an umbrella with legs a river of people flowing down the street like different coloured leaves and you look up and even from this distance of several years or more your smile the only thing I see. . . Death unable to take that from me.

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Sep 5, 2017

Sep 5, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC

donall-dempsey

THE SMALLE RAYNE DOWNE CAN RAYNE?"

"THE SMALLE RAYNE DOWNE CAN RAYNE?" You bloom in my mind like a fast forward film of a flower going from seed to blossom in a second or seven I looking down from on high as you pass by under the bridge you " no bigger than your head" that line from Lear a chestnut red flowing over your shoulders you the only one with head uncovered everyone else suddenly become an umbrella with legs a river of people flowing down the street like different coloured leaves and you look up and even from this distance of several years or more your smile the only thing I see. . . Death unable to take that from me.

37

"THE SMALLE RAYNE DOWNE CAN RAYNE?" You bloom in my mind like a fast forward film of a flower going from seed to blossom in a second or seven I looking down from on high as you pass by under the bridge you " no bigger than your head" that line from Lear a chestnut red flowing over your shoulders you the only one with head uncovered everyone else suddenly become an umbrella with legs a river of people flowing down the street like different coloured leaves and you look up and even from this distance of several years or more your smile the only thing I see. . . Death unable to take that from me. *** WESTRIB WYNDE Westron wynde, when wyll thow blow The smalle rayne downe can rayne? Cryst yf my love were in my armys, And I yn my bed agayne!

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Sep 5, 2022

Sep 5, 2022 at 6:20 PM UTC

donall-dempsey

"THE SMALLE RAYNE DOWNE CAN RAYNE?"

"THE SMALLE RAYNE DOWNE CAN RAYNE?" You bloom in my mind like a fast forward film of a flower going from seed to blossom in a second or seven I looking down from on high as you pass by under the bridge you " no bigger than your head" that line from Lear a chestnut red flowing over your shoulders you the only one with head uncovered everyone else suddenly become an umbrella with legs a river of people flowing down the street like different coloured leaves and you look up and even from this distance of several years or more your smile the only thing I see. . . Death unable to take that from me. *** WESTRIB WYNDE Westron wynde, when wyll thow blow The smalle rayne downe can rayne? Cryst yf my love were in my armys, And I yn my bed agayne!

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