I that in heill was and gladness

Am trublit now with great sickness

And feblit with infirmitie

Timor Mortis conturbat me

Our plesance here is all vain glory

This fals world is but transitory

The flesh is bruckle the Feynd is slee:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

The state of man does change and vary

Now sound now sick now blyth now sary

Now dansand mirry now like to die

Timor Mortis conturbat me

No state in Erd here standis sicker;

As with the wynd wavis the wicker

So wannis this world's vanitie

Timor Mortis conturbat me

Unto the Death gois all Estatis

Princis Prelatis and Potestatis

Baith rich and poor of all degree:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

He takis the knichtis in to the field

Enarmit under helm and scheild;

Victor he is at all mellie:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

That strong unmerciful tyrand

Takis on the motheris breast sowkand

The babe full of benignitie:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

He takis the campion in the stour

The captain closit in the tour

The lady in bour full of bewtie:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

I see that makaris amang the lave

Playis here their padyanis syne gois to grave;

Sparit is nocht their facultie:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

He has tane Rowll of Aberdene

And gentill Rowll of Corstorphine;

Two better fallowis did no man see:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

In Dunfermline he has tane Broun

With Maister Robert Henrysoun;

Sir John the Ross enbrast has he:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

Sen he has all my brether tane

He will naught let me live alane;

Of force I man his next prey be:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

Since for the Death remeid is none

Best is that we for Death dispone

After our death that live may we:

Timor Mortis conturbat me

Lament for the Makers By William Dunbar - John Laurie