Of All Nacyons Vnder The Heuyn Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: A B BCBCCAA BDBDDBB EBEBBFF F F ABB FBFFFFF FAFAAGG BABAAHE CBCBBAA FEFEEAA CACAACC

Skelton Laureate agaynste a comely Coystrowne that curyowsly chawntyd And curryshly cowntred And madly in hys Musykkys mokkyshly made Agaynste the ix Musys of polytyke Poems Poettys matryculatA
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Of all nacyons vnder the heuynB
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Of all nacyons vnder the heuynB
These frantyke foolys I hate most of allC
For though they stumble in the synnys seuynB
In peuyshnes yet they snapper and fallC
Which men the viii dedly syn callC
This peuysh proud thys prendergestA
When he is well yet can he not restA
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A swete suger lofe sowre bayardys bunB
Be sumdele lyke in forme shapD
The one for a duke the other for dunB
A maunchet for morell thereon to snapD
Hys hart is to hy to haue any hapD
But for in his gamvt carp that he canB
Lo Iak wold be a IentylmanB
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Wyth hey troly loly lo whip here IakE
Alumbek sodyldym syllorym benB
Curyowsly he can both counter knakE
Of Martyn swart all hys mery menB
Lord how perkyn is proud of hys PohenB
But ask wher he fyndyth among hys monacordysF
An holy water clarke a ruler of lordysF
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He can not fynd it in rule nor in spaceF
He solfyth to haute hys Trybyll is to hy-
He braggyth of hys byrth that borne was full baceF
Hys musyk withoute mesure to sharp is hys my-
He trymmyth in hys tenor to counter pyrdewyA
Hys dyscant is besy it is withoute a meneB
To fat is hys fantsy hys wyt is to leneB
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He lumbryth on a lewde lewte roty bully IoyseF
Rumbyll downe tumbyll downe hey go now nowB
He fumblyth in hys fyngeryng an vgly good noyseF
It semyth the sobbyng of an old sowF
He wold be made moch of he wyst howF
Wele sped In spyndels and turnyng of tauellysF
A bungler a brawler a pyker of quarellysF
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Comely he clappyth a payre of clauycordysF
He whystelyth so swetely he makyth me to sweteA
His descant is dasshed full of dyscordesF
A red angry man but easy to intreteA
An vssher of the hall fayn wold I getA
To poynte this proude page a place and a romeG
For Iak wold be a Ientylman that late was a gromeG
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Iak wold Iet and yet Iyll sayd nayB
He counteth in his countenaunce to checke with the bestA
A malaperte medler that pryeth for his prayB
In a dysh dare he rush at the rypestA
Dremyng in dumpys to wrangyll to wrestA
He fyndeth a proporcyon in his prycke songeH
To drynk at a draught a larg a longE
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Nay iape not with hym he is no small foleC
It is a solempne syre and a solayneB
For lordes and ladyes lerne at his scoleC
He techyth them so wysely to solf and to fayneB
That neyther they synge wel prycke songe nor playneB
Thys docter deuyas commensyd in a cartA
A master a mynstrell a fydler a farteA
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What though ye can cownter Custodi nosF
As well it becomyth yow a parysh towne ClarkeE
To syng Sospitati dedit EgrosF
Yet bere ye not to bold to braule ne to barkE
At me that medeled nothyng with youre warkE
Correct fyrst thy self walk be noughtA
Deme what thou lyst thou knowyst not my thoughtA
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A prouerbe of old say well or be styllC
Ye are to vnhappy occasyons to fyndeA
Uppon me to clater or els to say yllC
Now haue I shewyd you part of your proud myndeA
Take thys in worth the best is behyndeA
Wryten at Croydon by Crowland in the ClayC
On Candelmas euyn the Kalendas of MayC

John Skelton



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