Walter Kennedy
Walter Kennedy Poems
Ane aigit man, twyss fourty yeiris,
Eftir þe haly dayis of Yule,
I hard him say, amangis þe Freiris
Of Ordour Gray, makand grit dule,
...
Leiff luif, my luif, no langir I it lyk,
Altir our amowris in to observance;
Eschew þe sword of vengence, or it stryk;
...
Hail, Cristin Knycht! Haill, etern confortour!
Haill, Riall King, in trone celistiall!
Haill, Lampe of Licht! Haill, Jhesu Saluitour,
...
INCIPIT PASSIO.
God of his grace and gudness infinit
Sa nobill maid þe man, his creatour,
That of himselfe [he] knawlage had perfite,
...
THE RESSURECTIOUN.
This blissit Prince baid giffand conforting
To þe fathiris, quhilk in the lymbe þat lay,
...
Als to þe castell sevin myll fra þe ciete
Off his discipillis passand on pasche day,
His cruell pane rehersand with piete,
...
Within þi mynd remember, man, at terce,
How to Pilat þai him brocht agane.
His gret diseis with all hert reherss,
...
O Man, at none [þou] with mynd behald
The well of lufe, throu droucht quhilk is gane dry!
...
To þe I say, o Lady Virgine cleyne,
Off my worschip þou art baith crop and rute,
Thoucht I wes wile, throu flewour now I schyn ...
...
At matin hour, in middis of the night,
Wakened of sleep, I saw beside me soon,
Ane aged man, seemed sixty years of sight,
...
Walter Kennedy Biography
Walter Kennedy (ca. 1455 – 1518?) was a Scottish makar associated with the renaissance court of James IV. He is perhaps best known as the defendant against William Dunbar in The Flyting of Dumbar and Kennedie, but his surviving works clearly show him to have been an accomplished "master" in many genres. It is likely that a significant body of poetry by him has been lost. His most impressive surviving poem is The Passioun. Kennedy was born into the Scottish Clan Kennedy, a principal aristocratic family in South Ayrshire. This was part of the Galloway Gàidhealtachd, a strong Gaelic-speaking area of the Scottish Lowlands. He was almost certain to have been a native speaker of the language. Educated at the University of Glasgow, he graduated as MA in 1478. As great-grandson of Robert III and nephew of James Kennedy, bishop of St Andrews, Kennedy would have been very well-connected in the royal court. He possessed estates in both Carrick and Galloway and is known to have held ecclesiastical posts such as rector of Douglas and canon of Glasgow Cathedral although records show that his right to hold at least one of his posts was contested by the Holy See in Rome. Although Kennedy's surviving works are written in Middle Scots he may also have composed in Gaelic. In the Flyting, for instance, Dunbar makes big play of Kennedy's Carrick roots (albeit in the rankly insulting terms that are part of the genre) and strongly associates him with Erschry, which meant in other words the bardic tradition. By this time, the term Irish in Scotland signified Gaelic generally: Sic eloquence as thay in Erschry use, In sic is sett thy thraward appetyte. Thow hes full littill feill of fair indyte. I tak on me, ane pair of Lowthiane hippis Sall fairar Inglis mak and mair perfyte Than thow can blabbar with thy Carrik lippis. Such eloquence as they in Irishry [Gaeldom] use Is what defines your perverse taste. You have very small aptitude for good verse-making. I'll wager, a pair of Lothian hips Shall fairer English [Lowland Scots] make and more polished Than thou can blabber with thy Carrick lips. Kennedy also appears at the end of Dunbar's Lament for the Makaris (c.1505) where he is described as being close to death (in poynt of dede) though there is no evidence that he died at this date.)
The Best Poem Of Walter Kennedy
Ane Aigit Man, Twyss Fourty Yeiris,
Ane aigit man, twyss fourty yeiris,
Eftir þe haly dayis of Yule,
I hard him say, amangis þe Freiris
Of Ordour Gray, makand grit dule,
Rycht as he wer a furiuss fule,
Oft syiss he sicht, and said, Allace!
Be Chryst, my cair ma nevir cule,
Þat evir I schervit Mowþ-þankless!
Þroch ignorance and foly youþ
My preterit tyme I wald nevir spair,
Plesans to put in to þat mowþ,
Quhill Eild said, Fule, latt be þy fair:
And now my heid is quhyt and hair,
For feding of þat fowmart face,
Quhairfoir I murn bayþ laitt and air,
Þat evir I schervit Mowþ-þankless.
Gold and silver that I micht gett,
Brochis, beisandis, robbis and ringis,
Frely to gife I wald nocht lett,
To pleiss þa mullis attour all þingis.
Rycht as þe swan for sorrow singis
Befoir hir deid ane littell space,
Rycht so do I, and my handis wringis,
Þat evir I schervit Mowþ-þankless.
Bettir it war ane man to serf,
Wiþ wirchep and honour undir a scheild,
Nor hir to pleiss, þocht þow suld sterf,
Þat will nocht luke on þe in eild.
Fra þat þow haif no hair to heild
Thy heid fra harmyng þat it hess,
Quhen pen and purss and all is peild,
Tak þair a meiss of Mowþ-þankless.
And in example it may be sene,
Þe grund of trewþ quha vndirstude,
Fra in þy bag þow beir þyne ene,
Þow gettis no grace, bott for þy gud,
At Venus closet, for to conclude;
Call ye nocht þiss ane kankert caiss?
Now God help, and þe Haly Rude,
And keip all men fra Mowþ-þankless.
O brukill yowþ, in tyme behald,
And in þyne hairt þir wirdis graif,
Or þy complexioun gadder cald,
Amend þy miss, þy self to saif,
Þe hevynis bliss gif þow wilt haif,
And of þy gilt remit and grace.
All þis I hard ane auld man raif,
Eftir þe Yule, of Mowþ-þankless.
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