'All earthly joy returns to pain'

An Ash Wednesday poem by the Scottish poet William Dunbar:

Off Lentren in the first mornyng,
Airly as did the day upspring,
Thus sang ane bird with voce upplane:
"All erdly joy returnis in pane.

O man, haif mynd that thow mon pas;
Remembir that thow art bot as
And sall in as return agane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

Haif mynd that eild ay followis yowth;
Deth followis lyfe with gaipand mowth,
Devoring fruct and flowring grane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

Welth, warldly gloir, and riche array
Ar all bot thornis laid in thy way,
Ourcoverd with flouris laid in ane trane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

Come nevir yit May so fresche and grene
Bot Januar come als wod and kene;
Wes nevir sic drowth bot anis come rane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

Evirmair unto this warldis joy
As nerrest air succeidis noy;
Thairfoir, quhen joy ma nocht remane,
His verry air succeidis pane.

Heir helth returnis in seiknes,
And mirth returnis in havines,
Toun in desert, forrest in plane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

Fredome returnis in wrechitnes,
And trewth returnis in dowbilnes
With fenyeit wirdis to mak men fane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

Vertew returnis into vyce,
And honour into avaryce;
With cuvatyce is consciens slane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane.

Sen erdly joy abydis nevir,
Wirk for the joy that lestis evir;
For uder joy is all bot vane:
All erdly joy returnis in pane."


Here's a (lightly) modernised version:

Of Lent upon the first morning,
Early as did the day up spring,
Thus sang a bird with voice so plain:
"All earthly joy returns to pain.

O man, have mind that thou must pass;
Remember that thou art but ash
And shall to ash return again:
All earthly joy returns to pain.

Have mind that age ever follows youth;
Death follows life with gaping mouth,
Devouring fruit and flowering grain:
All earthly joy returns to pain.

Wealth, worldly glory, and rich array
Are all but thorns laid in thy way,
O'er-covered with flowers laid in a train: [trap]
All earthly joy returns to pain.

Came never yet May so fresh and green
But January came again, wild and keen;
There was never drought but once again came rain:
All earthly joy returns to pain.

Evermore, unto this world's joy,
As next thing ever succeeds noy; [trouble]
Therefore, when joy may not remain,
All earthly joy returns to pain.

Here health returns to sickness,
And mirth returns to heaviness,
Town into desert, forest into plain:
All earthly joy returns to pain.

Freedom returns to slavery,
And truth returns to treachery,
With feigned words to make men fain: [to please men]
All earthly joy returns to pain.

Virtue returns again to vice,
And honour into avarice;
With covetousness is conscience slain:
All earthly joy returns to pain.

Since earthly joy abides never,
Work for the joy that lasts forever;
For other joy is all but vain:
All earthly joy returns to pain."


The word 'return' is the keynote of the poem; it recalls the central message of Ash Wednesday, 'Remember that thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return'. Dunbar also wrote a poem where that phrase is the refrain:

Memento, homo, quod cinis es:
Think, man, thow art bot erd and as;
Lang heir to dwell nathing thow pres,
For as thow come sa sall thow pas.
Lyk as ane schaddow in ane glas
Hyne glydis all thy tyme that heir is;
Think, thocht thy bodye ware of bras,
Quod tu in cinerem reverteris.

Worthye Hector and Hercules,
Forcye Achill and strong Sampsone,
Alexander of grit nobilnes,
Meik David and fair Absolone
Hes playit thair pairtis, and all are gone
At will of God that all thing steiris:
Think, man, exceptioun thair is none,
Sed tu in cinerem reverteris.

Thocht now thow be maist glaid of cheir,
Fairest and plesandest of port,
Yit may thow be within ane yeir
Ane ugsum, uglye tramort.
And sen thow knawis thy tyme is schort
And in all houre thy lyfe in weir is,
Think, man, amang all uthir sport,
Quod tu in cinerem reverteris.

Thy lustye bewté and thy youth
Sall feid as dois the somer flouris;
Syne sall thee swallow with his mouth
The dragone death that all devouris.
No castell sall thee keip, nor touris,
Bot he sall seik thee with thy feiris.
Thairfore remembir at all houris
Quod tu in cinerem reverteris.

Thocht all this warld thow did posseid,
Nocht eftir death thow sall posses,
Nor with thee tak bot thy guid deid
Quhen thow dois fro this warld thee dres.
So speid thee, man, and thee confes
With humill hart and sobir teiris,
And sadlye in thy hart inpres
Quod tu in cinerem reverteris.

Thocht thow be taklit nevir so sure,
Thow sall in deathis port arryve,
Quhair nocht for tempest may indure
Bot ferslye all to speiris dryve.
Thy Ransonner with woundis fyve
Mak thy plycht anker and thy steiris
To hald thy saule with Him on lyve,
Cum tu in cinerem reverteris.


And a modernised version:

Memento, homo, quod cinis es:
Think, man, thou art but earth and ash;
Long here to dwell do not thou press,
For as thou come, so shall thou pass.
Like as a shadow in the glass
Hence glides all thy time that here is;
Think, though thy body were of brass,
Quod tu in cinerem reverteris.

Worthy Hector and Hercules,
Powerful Achilles and strong Sampson,
Alexander of great nobleness,
Meek David and fair Absolom
Have played their parts, and all are gone
At the will of God that all things steers:
Think, man, exception there is none,
Sed tu in cinerem reverteris.

Though now thou be most glad of cheer,
Fairest and pleasantest of port, [bearing]
Yet may thou be within one year
A loathsome, ugly tramort. [corpse]
And since thou know thy time is short
And in all hours thy life in doubt is,
Think, man, among all other sport,
Quod tu in cinerem reverteris.

Thy lusty beauty and thy youth
Shall fade as do the summer flowers;
Then shall thee swallow with his mouth
The dragon death that all devours.
No castle shall thee keep, nor towers,
But he shall seek thee with thy feiris. [companions]
Therefore remember at all hours
Quod tu in cinerem reverteris.

Though all this world thou did possess,
Naught after death thou shall possess,
Nor with thee take but thy good deeds
When thou must from this world thee dress. [prepare]
So speed thee, man, and thee confess
With humble heart and sober tears,
And solemnly in thy heart impress
Quod tu in cinerem reverteris.

Though thou be rigged never so sure,
Thou shall in death's port arrive,
Where none the tempest may endure
Which fiercely all to pieces drives.
Thy Ransomer with his wounds five
Make thy main anchor and thy stars
To hold thy soul with him in life,
Cum tu in cinerem reverteris.