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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Book of Phillip Sparrow</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Pla ce bo,<br>Who is there, who?<br>Di le xi,<br>Dame Margery;<br>Fa, re, my, my,<br>Wherfore and why, why?<br>For the sowle of Philip Sparowe,<br>That was late slayn at Carowe,<br>Among the Nones Blake,<br>For that swete soules sake,<br>And for all sparowes soules,<br>Set in our bederolles,<br>Pater noster qui,<br>With an Ave Mari, <br>And with the corner of a Crede,<br>The more shalbe your mede.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Whan I remembre agayn<br>How mi Philyp was slayn,<br>Never halfe the payne<br>Was betwene you twayne,<br>Pyramus and Thesbe,<br>As than befell to me:<br>I wept and I wayled,<br>The tearys downe hayled;<br>But nothinge it avayled<br>To call Phylyp agayne,<br>Whom Gyb our cat hath slayne.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Gib, I saye, our cat,<br>Worrowyd her on that<br>Which I loved best:<br>It can not be exprest<br>My sorowfull hevynesse,<br>But all without redresse;<br>For within that stounde,<br>Halfe slumbrynge, in a swounde<br>I fell downe to the grounde.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Unneth I kest myne eyes<br>Towarde the cloudy skyes:<br>But whan I dyd beholde<br>My sparow dead and colde,<br>No creatuer but that wolde<br>Have rewed upon me,<br>To behold and se<br>What hevynesse dyd me pange;<br>Wherewith my handes I wrange,<br>That my senaws cracked,<br>As though I had ben racked,<br>So payned and so strayned,<br>That no lyfe wellnye remayned.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I syghed and I sobbed,<br>For that I was robbed<br>Of my sparowes lyfe.<br>O mayden, wydow, and wyfe,<br>Of what estate ye be,<br>Of hye or lowe degre,<br>Great sorowe than ye myght se,<br>And lerne to wepe at me!<br>Such paynes dyd me frete,<br>That myne hert dyd bete,<br>My vysage pale and dead,<br>Wanne, and blewe as lead;<br>The panges of hatefull death<br>Wellnye had stopped my breath.<br>Heu, heu, me,<br>That I am wo for the!<br>Ad Dominum, cum tribularer, clamavi: <br>Of God nothynge els crave I<br>But Phyllypes soule to kepe<br>From the marees deepe<br>Of Acherontes well,<br>That is a flode of hell;<br>And from the great Pluto,<br>The prynce of endles wo;<br>And from foule Alecto,<br>With vysage blacke and blo;<br>And from Medusa, that mare,<br>That lyke a fende doth stare;<br>And from Megeras edders,<br>For rufflynge of Phillips fethers,<br>And from her fyry sparklynges,<br>For burnynge of his wynges;<br>And from the smokes sowre<br>Of Proserpinas bowre;<br>And from the dennes darke,<br>Wher Cerberus doth barke,<br>Whom Theseus dyd afraye,<br>Whom Hercules dyd outraye,<br>As famous poetes say;<br>From that hell-hounde,<br>That lyeth in cheynes bounde,<br>With gastly hedes thre,<br>To Jupyter pray we<br>That Phyllyp preserved may be!<br>Amen, say ye with me!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Do mi nus, <br>Helpe nowe, swete Jesus!<br>Levavi oculos meos in montes: <br>Wolde God I had Zenophontes,<br>Or Socrates the wyse<br>To shew me their devyse,<br>Moderatly to take<br>This sorrow that I make<br>For Phylyp Sparowes sake!<br>So fervently I shake,<br>I fele my body quake;<br>So urgently I am brought<br>Into carefull thought.<br>Like Andromach, Hectors wyfe,<br>Was wery of her lyfe,<br>Whan she had lost her joye,<br>Noble Hector of Troye;<br>In lyke maner also<br>Encreaseth my dedly wo,<br>For my sparowe is go.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It was so prety a fole,<br>It wold syt on a stole,<br>And lerned after my scole<br>For to kepe his cut,<br>With, "Phyllyp, kepe your cut!"</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It had a velvet cap,<br>And wold syt upon my lap,<br>And seke after small wormes,<br>And somtyme white bred crommes;<br>And many tymes and ofte<br>Betwene my brestes softe<br>It wolde lye and rest;<br>It was propre and prest.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=421837" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Somtyme he wolde gaspe<br>Whan he sawe a waspe;<br>A fly or a gnat,<br>He wolde flye at that;<br>And prytely he wold pant<br>Whan he saw an ant;<br>Lord, how he wolde pry<br>After the butterfly!<br>Lorde, how he wolde hop<br>After the gressop!<br>And whan I sayd, "Phyp! Phyp!"<br>Than he wold lepe and skyp,<br>And take me by the lyp.<br>Alas, it wyll me slo,<br>That Phillyp is gone me fro!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=John+Skelton">John Skelton</a></strong></div>