Thursday, June 13, 2013


Without Distinction

Thomas Flatman (1635-1688), "Nudus Redibo," in his Poems and Songs, 4th ed. (London: Benjamin Tooke, 1686), p. 89:
Naked I came, when I began to be
A man among the Sons of Misery,
Tender, unarm'd, helpless, and quite forlorn,
E're since 'twas my hard fortune to be born;
And when the space of a few weary days
Shall be expir'd, then must I go my ways.
Naked I shall return, and nothing have,
Nothing wherewith to bribe my hungry Grave.
Than what's the proudest Monarch's glittering Robe,
Or what's he, more than I, that rul'd the Globe?
Since we must all without distinction die,
And slumber both stark naked, He and I.
Robert of Brunnè's Handlyng Synne, ed. Frederick J. Furnivall (London: Roxburghe Club, 1862), pp. 269-270 (lines 8697-8702):
The lorde that made of erthe, erles,
Of the same erthe made he cherles;
Erles myght, and lordes stut,
As cherles shal yn erthe be put,
Erles, cherles, all at ones,
Shal none knowe yhoure, fro oure, bones.

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