Anyone know the origin of this?

[cee-dee]

It's a somewhat "impolite" rhyme but there's a few versions of it:

Where 'ere 'ee be,

Let the wind blow free,

For it wath the wind,

Tthat killeth me. That was supposed to be an epitaph on a grave stone.

Another version is:-

Where'er thee be,

Let the wind blow free.

In Church or Chapel,

Let it rattle.

Anyone got any ideas?

[right-then-petal]

Well, I just come down from the isle of sky
I'm not very big and I'm awfully shy
The lasses shout as I go by "donald, where's your troosers?"

Let the wind blow high
Let the wind blow low
Through the streets in a kilt I go
All the lasses shout hello
Donald where's yer troosers?

A lassie took me to the ball
And it was slippery in the hall
I was afraid that I would fall
Cause I was'nae wearin' troosers

[aernethril]

..... there was a gravestone in Honley Churchyard with the inscription: “Where ere you be, let your wind blow free, for it is the wind, that killeth thee.”

[aernethril]

Did Somebody Step on a Duck?: A Natural History of........

Various mentions

[fallen-archie]

Poetry is not my forte, or wind for that matter, yet there is a train of thought suggesting the poem may be the work of Arthur Jeffrey Hodgkinson, perhaps a regular poet may expand on this.

[tommy.irene]

Do you think that when a Jehovah witness dies and gets to heaven, that God hides behind the gates and pretends he's not in?

[margaret*e]

My Cockney stepmother told me approx 50years ago, that was on a gravestone in London, but the last line was 'or else you'll end up same as me.

[cee-dee]

Well Margie, I have a faint memory of seeing a photo of a gravestone with that inscription but I didn't know if it was a "false" memory. Seems it was a proper memory?

[angelicat2012]

Love it 

😂

[margaret*e]

I don't know if there's any truth in it, or it's an urban myth.

Seems to be a few variations of it spread across the country.

Where's Honley Churchyard, the one I found said Yorkshire.

[bankhaunter]

For it wath the wind,

Tthat killeth me.

People can die of flatulence?

[cee-dee]

In a round about way, yes.

[merehazle]

Ahem... A chance for a bit of poetry from my collection.

Hear the sledges with the silver bells-

Sliver bells!

What a world of merriment their melody foretells!

How they tinkle, tinkle,tinkle,

In the icy air of night!

While the stars that over sprinkle

All the heavens, seem to twinkle

With a crystal delight;

Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells

From the bells, bells, bells.

Bells, bells, bells--

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

More later

[aernethril]

This is very insightful and has handy hints

Natural ummmmmmm moments

Curiously, a quick google search on whether or not one could pass over from not passing whenever, seems to focus heavily on mens' health pages.

It's as if women are still expected to find other socially acceptable outlets along with their ability to only 'glow' and never perspire, let alone sweat.

It's a wonder we're still around really.

[aernethril]

Oohhhhhh

Birds do it

Bees do it

Even melting frozen seas do it

What lurks below

[merehazle]

---

@aernethril wrote:

Oohhhhhh

Birds do it

Bees do it

Even melting frozen seas do it

What lurks below

---

 

Excuse me.  I'm doing the poetry.  Well some of it.

Only joking  

 'What lurks below'    I must say what wonderful pictures. Here have a Kudos for that, and the story.

[electric*mayhem*band]

---

@bankhaunter wrote:

For it wath the wind,

Tthat killeth me.

People can die of flatulence?

---

No chance of that on here. This place is positively constipated.

[barmitc_95]

the vrsion that you post is obvios to be of Scottish origin

I am now 73years old and as a child mu mother often took mt to a cemetary in Atherton Lancashire were her Father was buried , at the entrance she often stopped at an old tall gravestone to a well known family and under one name were the words 

In Church or Chapel let it Rattle for it was Wind that Killeth me !

the Gravestone is till there and is nearly 200 years old 

the Family was named Fletcher Burroughs a Rich Coal Mining Family

[vamo48]

This is "Donald, where's your troosers?" by Andy Stewart, released in 1960 and again in 1989

[warmar.fi47qs]

My nan always use to say

Wherever you may be,
let your wind blow free,
in church or chapel let it rattle,
cos that's what killeth me

It always made us giggle