Poems, in the form of nursery rhymes, were, for many of us, our introduction to stories. I will post a favourite poem each week. Email me your favourite poems and I will post them too.
I first came across this week's poem in Antonia Forest's End of Term. Patrick Merrick recites it on a moonlit horse ride with Nicola Marlow and she is slightly freaked out! Only a verse or two is reproduced in thebook, but they were enough to make me understand why she was spooked. It is a rather creepy poem about death, or rather about the journey through death. Although it's not easy to understand, being written in an old Yorkshire dialect, certain phrases stand out and leave no doubt of as to the meaning of the verses.
Here are two versions of the Dirge, the original and one that's much easier to understand.
A Lyke-Wake Dirge
This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
- Every nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,
And Christe receive thy saule.
When thou from hence away art past,
- Every nighte and alle,
To Whinny-Muir thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.
If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,
- Every nighte and alle,
Sit thee down and put them on;
And Christe receive thy saule.
If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gav'st nane
- Every nighte and alle,
The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane;
And Christe receive thy saule.
From Whinny-muir when thou mayst pass,
- Every nighte and alle,
To Brig o' Dread thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.
From Brig o' Dread when thou mayst pass,
- Every nighte and alle,
To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.
If ever thou gavest meat or drink,
- Every nighte and alle,
The fire sall never make thee shrink;
And Christe receive thy saule.
If meat or drink thou ne'er gav'st nane,
- Every nighte and alle,
The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;
And Christe receive thy saule.
This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
- Every nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,
And Christe receive thy saule.
Anonymous
Alternative Version of A Lyke-Wake Dirge
On this night, on this night,
Every night and all,
Fire and flame and candle light,
And Christ take up your soul.
When you from here away are passed
Every night and all,
To Whinny Moor you'll come at last,
And Christ take up your soul.
If ever you gave either socks or shoes,
Every night and all,
Sit you down and put them on,
And Christ take up your soul.
But if socks and shoes gave you no-one,
Every night and all,
The whinnies will prick you to the bone,
And Christ take up your soul.
From Whinney Moor when you are passed,
Every night and all,
To the Bridge of Dread you'll come at last,
And Christ take up your soul.
If ever you gave of your silver and gold,
Every night and all,
On the Bridge of Dread you'll find a foothold,
And Christ take up your soul.
But if silver and gold you never gave,
Every night and all,
You'll down, down tumble towards Hell's flame,
And Christ take up your soul.
From the Bridge of Dread when you are passed
Every night and all,
To the flames of Hell you'll come at last,
And Christ take up your soul.
If ever you gave either food or drink,
Every night and all,
The flames will never make you sink,
And Christ take up your soul.
But if food and drink gave you no-one,
Every night and all,
The flames will burn you to the bone,
And Christ take up your soul.
October 2004
