Friday, May 20, 2011

uncouenable chaines into armed flask

The Riuer-waking-Serpent to make sleepe, 
Whose horride crest, blew scales, and vnces blacke, 
Threat euery one a death.  ~Heywood, 1609

oure thyng rives them
with the terribil gladnes
for too much story stooles
fremescent no gowdy and 

all hee heel what gow hoyseth
of heels ower river kyng 
hath this too his ony gowlere

and with out dayes for hoo
hart of stone or of heels 
ower river freke y-felde sobs 

to the unkuowthe at 
mownt þiself to uncouenable trees 
he lives at present in loo

in the quality of chief fontanier &
freams and skrawling þrou hedge flask
with stopping said to one uncouth

if them had finished trassh fro
when clangour comes utter 
that which skye brays splitter

who ropes froes
his nationals wrong a-wey 
i've got to go laid 

mine honour vnto what
 haue wych is whatsoever
caused to ascend freake good

of water which and freke y-felde sobs
ony gowlere to ascend with brays
fremescent clangour the skye a-wey

 his the fro to utter his father
a river froes chaines gowdy 
if þou of the not þiself

and skrawling no out 
of laid mine ony
wrong good bere

and had finished 
the armed thyng 
unkuowthe fontanier


see ign wot 
its pip myopia thringler
deuda feuda and fedula

king freake federal our coven water
tease gowse femur threen givingly
wrong ony to hart stone laid

thine the hedge of water
fonnish the source and original first
what err listener fonkin if thou couldst

the funduck scapegoat scopcoat
in which hot amalgamation is practiced
symeon tuix his handes fang

felly fangis it a torch
fanfarrado all heel goweth
in the quality

these gowns of grograyne
english in the art
her aunt that wears eternal black

gaming houses
not to boult it [the flour] 

soe sore uppon 
the gurgeones of brainn
blues boxings sharps

scuftings pollards
seconds middlings
nes his pitaunce 

o rode bute 
a sponge of galle
than washe your shepe there-with

the stade spondeus foote
neowran wyrttruman

delf up
twit nixon
beep i doo

coon coin carne' curse
cohen khan coven
cooin' karneddy cœurs

many vertues and wonders
winstram spocking spool
we knowe wele what pardon wee shull have

i brought half a fou 
o good red goud 
out oer the sea with me

hurry up tovaritch and 
tape good the mouths
fecht and gangs aff with a snarl