Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
Anglo-Irish poems of the Middle Ages: The Kildare Poems (Author: [unknown])

Poem 3

Satire

{MS fol 7r}

    1. 1] Hail, Seint Michel with the lange sper!
      Fair beth the winges vp thi scholder.
      Thou hast a rede kirtel a-non to thi fote,
      Thou ert best angle that euer God makid.
      This uers is ful wel iwroght.
      Hit is of wel furre y-broght.
    2. 7] Hail, Seint Cristofre with thi lang stake!
      Thou ber Ur Louerd Jesus Crist ouer the brod lake.
      Mani grete kunger swimmeth abute thi fete.
      Hou mani hering to peni at West Chep in London?
      This uers is of Holi Writte,
      Hit com of noble witte.
    3. 13] Seint Mari bastard, the Maudelein is sone,
      To be wel iclothed wel was thi wone.
      Thou berrist a box on thi hond ipeinted al of gold.
      Woned thou wer to be hend, yiue us sum of thi spices.
      This uers is imakid wel,
      Of consonans and wowel.
    4. 19] Hail, Seint Dominik with thi lang staffe!
      Hit is at the ouir end crokid as a gaffe.
      Thou berrist a bok on thi bak, Ich wen hit is a Bible.
      Thogh thou be a gode clerk, be thou noght to heigh.
      Trie rime la, god hit wote!
      Soch an-othir an erthe Inote.
    5. 25] Hail, Seint Franceis with thi mani foulis—
      Kites and crowis, reuenes and oules,
      Fure and tuenti wildges and a poucok!
      Mani bold begger siwith thi route.
      This uers is ful wel isette,
      Swithe furre hit was i-vette.
      6. {MS fol 7v}
    6. 31] Hail be ye freris with the white copis!
      Ye habbith a hus at Drochda war men makith ropis.
      Euir ye beth roilend the londis al a-bute;
      Of the watir daissers ye robbith the churchis.
      Maister he was swithe gode
      That this sentence vnderstode.
    7. 37] Hail be ye Gilmins with yur blake gunes!
      Ye leuith the wildirnis and filleth the tiuns.
      Menur with-oute and prechur with-inne,
      Yur abite is of gadering, that is mochil schame.
      Sleilich is this uers iseid.
      Hit were harme adun ileiid.
    8. 43] Hail, ye holi monkes with yur corrin,
      Late and rathe ifillid of ale and wine!
      Depe cun ye bouse, that is al yure care.
      With Seint Benet is scurge lome ye disciplineth.
      Taketh hed al to me:
      That this is sleche, ye mow wel se.
    9. 49] Hail be ye nonnes of Seint Mari house,
      Goddes bourmaidnes and his owen spouse!
      Ofte mistredith ye yur schone, yur fet beth ful tendre;
      Datheit the sotter that tawith yure lethir!
      Swithe wel ye vnderstode
      That makid this ditee so gode.
    10. 55] Hail be ye prestis with yur brode bokes!
      Thogh yur crune be ischaue, fair beth yur crokes.
      Yow and other lewid men deleth bot a-houue,
      Whan ye delith holibrede, yiue me botte a litel.
      Sikerlich he was a clerk
      That wrochte this craftilich werke.
      11. {MS fol 8r}
    11. 61] Hail be ye marchans with yur gret packes
      Of draperie, auoir depeise, and yur wol sackes,
      Gold, siluer, stones, riche markes and ek pundes!
      Litel yiue ye ther-of to the wrech pouer.
      Sleigh he was and ful of witte
      That this lore put in writte.
    12. 67] Hail be ye tailurs with yur scharpe schores!
      To make wronge hodes ye kittith lome gores.
      Ayens mid winter hote beth yur neldes.
      Thogh yur semes semith fair, hi lestith litil while.
      The clerk that this baston wrowghte,
      Wel he woke and slepe righte nowghte.
    13. 73] Hail be ye sutters with your mani lestes,
      With your blote hides of selcuth bestis,
      And trobles and treisuses, bochevampe and alles!
      Blak and lothlich beth yur teth, hori was that route.
      Nis this bastun wel ipight?
      Euch word him sitte arighte.
    14. 79] Hail be ye skinners with yure drench kiue!
      Who-so smillith therto, wo is him aliue,
      Whan that hit thonnerith ye mote ther in schite.
      Datheit yur curteisie, ye stinketh al the strete!
      Worth hit were that he wer king
      That ditid this trie thing.
    15. 85] Hail be ye potters with yur bole ax!
      Fair beth yur barmhatres, yolow beth yur fax.
      Ye stondith at the schamil, brod ferlich bernes,
      Fleiis yow folowithe, ye swolowith y-now.
      The best clerk of al this tun
      Craftfullich makid this bastun
      16. {MS fol 8v}
    16. 91] Hail be ye bakers with yur louis smale
      Of white bred and of blake, ful mani and fale!
      Ye pincheth on the right white a-yens Goddes law.
      To the fair pillori, Ich rede ye, tak hede!
      This uers is iwrowghte so well,
      That no tung iwis mai telle.
    17. 97] Hail be ye brewesters with yur galuns,
      Potels and quartes ouer al the tounes!
      Yur thowmes berrith moche awai, schame hab the gyle,
      Beth iwar of the coking stole, the lak is dep and hori.
      Sikerlich he was a clerk
      That so sleilich wroghte this werk.
    18. 103] Hail be ye hokesters dun bi the lake,
      With candles and golokes and the pottes blak,
      Tripis and kine fete and schepen heuedes!
      With the hori tromcheri hori is yure inne.
      He is sori of his lif
      That is fast to such a wif.
    19. 109] Fi a debles, kaites that kemith the wolle,
      Al the schindes of the tronn an heigh opon yur sculle!
      Ye makid me sech a goshorne ouer al the wowes,
      Ther-for Ich makid on of you sit opon a hechil.
      He was noble clerk and gode
      That this dep lore vnderstode.
    20. 115] Makith glad mi frendis, ye sitteth to long stille,
      Spekith now and gladieth and drinkith al yur fille!
      Ye habbeth ihird of men lif that wonith in lond;
      Drinkith dep and makith glade, ne hab ye non other nede.
      This song is y-seid of me.
      Euer iblessid mot ye be.
      21. Explicit.