a

'For evermair, I wait,' and langer too ;'

Of my defence now frae yon cruel beast; "Gif that be true, ye are at ease,' quoth sho.

Almighty God, keep me fra sic a feast ! To eik the cheer, in plenty furth they broucht Were I into the place that I cam frae, A plate of groatis and a dish of meal,

For weel nor wae I should ne'er come again.' A threif? of cakes, I trow sho spared them noucht, With that sho took her leave, and forth can gae, Abundantly about her for to deal.

While through the corn, while through the plain. Furmage full fine sho broucht instead of jeil,

When she was furth and free she was right fain, A white candle out of a coffer staw,

And merrily linkit unto the muir,
Instead of spice, to creish their teeth witha'.

I cannot tell how afterward sho fure.
Thus made they merry, while they micht nae mair,
And, “Hail Yule, hail!they cryit up on hie ;

But I heard syne she passit to her den,
But after joy aftentimes comes care,

As warm as woo', suppose it was not grit, And trouble after grit prosperity.

Full beinly stuffit was baith butt and ben, Thus as they sat in all their solity,

With peas and nuts, and beans, and rye and wheat ;

Whene'er sho liked, sho had enough of meat,
The Spenser cam with keyis in his hand,
Opened the door, and them at dinner fand.

In quiet and ease, withouten [ony) dread,

But till her sister's feast nae mair sho gaed.
They tarried not to wash, as I suppose,
But on to gae, wha micht the foremost win ;

[Prom the Moral.] The burgess had a hole and in sho goes,

Blissed be simple life, withouten dreid; Her sister had nae place to hide her in;

Blissed be sober feast in quieté ; To see that silly mouse it was great sin,

Wha has eneuch of no more has he neid, Sae desolate and wild of all gude rede,

Though it be little into quantity. For very fear sho fell in swoon, near dead.

Grit abundance, and blind prosperity, Then as God wald it fell in happy case,

Oft timis make ane evil conclusion; The Spenser had nae leisure for to bide,

The sweetest life, theirfor, in this country,
Nowther to force, to seek, nor scare, nor chase,

Is of sickerness, with small possession.
But on he went and cast the door up-wide.
This burgess mouse his passage weel has spied.

The Garment of Good Ladies,
Out of her hole sho cam and cried on hie,

Would my good lady love me best, How, fair sister, cry peep, where'er thou be.'

And work after my will, The rural mouse lay flatlings on the ground,

I should a garment goodliest And for the deid sho was full dreadand,3

Gar make her body till.
For till her heart strake mony waeful stound,

Of high honoùr should be her hood,
As in a fever trembling foot and hand ;
And when her sister in sic plight her fand,

Upon her head to wear,

Garnish'd with governance, so good
For very pity sho began to greet,

Na deeming should her deir.
Syne comfort gave, with words as honey sweet.
Why lie ye thus ? Rise up, my sister dear,

Her sark3 should be her body next,
Come to your meat, this peril is o'erpast.'

Of chastity so white : The other answered with a heavy cheer,

With shame and dread together mixt, I may nought eat, sae sair I am aghast.

The same should be perfyte.4 Levert I had this forty dayis fast,

Her kirtle should be of clean constance, With water kail, and green beans and peas.

Lacit with lesum5 love; Then all your feast with this dread and disease.

The mailies6 of continuance,
With fair 'treaty, yet gart she her rise ;

For never to remove.
To board they went, and on together sat,
But scantly had they drunken anes or twice,

Her gown should be of goodliness,
When in cam Gib Hunter, our jolly cat,

Well ribbond with renown ; And bade God speed. The burgess up then gat,

Purfill'd 7 with pleasure in ilk8 place, And till her hole she fled as fire of flint ;

Furrit with fine fashioùn. Bawdrons the other by the back has hent.

Her belt should be of benignity, Frae foot to foot he cast her to and frae,

About her middle meet; While up, while down, as cant as only kid ;

Her mantle of humility, While wald he let her run under the strae

To thole 9 both wind and weit. 10
While wald he wink and play with her buik-hid ;

Her hat should be of fair having,
Thus to the silly mouse great harm he did;
While at the last, through fair fortune and hap,

And her tippet of truth ;
Betwixt the dresser and the wall she crap.

Her patelet of good pansing,"

Her hals-ribbon of ruth. 12
Syne up in baste behind the paneling,
Sae hié sho clam, that Gilbert might not get her,

Her sleeves should be of esperance,
And by the cluiks craftily can hing,

To keep her fra despair : Till he was gane, her cheer was all the better :

Her glovis of good governance, Syne down sho lap, when there was nane to let her ;

To hide her fingers fair. Then on the burgess mouth loud couth sho cry,

Her shoen should be of sickerness, * Fareweel sister, here I thy feast defy.

In sign that she not slide ; Thy mangery is mingets all with care,

Her hose of honesty, I guess,
Thy guise is gude, thy gane-full sour as gall ;

I should for her provide.
The fashion of thy feris is but fair,
So sball thou find hereafterward may fall.

1 Cause to be made to her shape. 9 No opinion should Injure her.

3 Shift. I thank yon curtain, and yon parpane wall,

6

Would she put on this garment gay,

allegorical poems are the Thistle and the Rose (a I durst swear by my seill,

triumphant nuptial song for the union of James and That she wore never green nor gray

the Princess Margaret), the Dance, and the Golden That set2 her half so weel.

Terge; but allegory abounds in many others, which

do not strictly fall within this class. Perhaps the WILLIAM DUNBAR.

most remarkable of all his poems is one of those

here enumerated, the Dance. It describes a procesWILLIAM DUNBAR, a poet,' says Sir Walter Scott, «unrivalled by any that Scotland has ever and for strength and vividness of painting, would

sion of the seven deadly sins in the infernal regions, produced, flourished at the court of James IV., at stand a comparison with any poem in the language. the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the six. The most solemn and impressive of the more exteenth centuries. His works, with the exception of one or two pieces, were confined, for above two cen- represents a thrush and nightingale taking opposite

clusively moral poems of Dunbar, is one in which he turies, to an obscure manuscript, from which they sides in a debate on earthly and spiritual affections, were only rescued when their language had become the thrush ending every speech or stanza with a so antiquated, as to render the world insensible in a recommendation of a lusty life in Love's service, great measure to their many excellencies. To no other circumstance can we attribute the little justice that and the nightingale with the more melodious declais done by popular fame to this highly-gifted poet, There is, however, something more touching to com

ration,All Love is lost but upon God alone.' who was alike master of every kind of verse, the solemn, the descriptive, the sublime, the comic, and mon feelings in the less laboured verses in which he the satirical. Having received his education at the moralises on the brevity of existence, the shortness university of St Andrews, where, in 1479, he took wickedness and woes of mankind.

and uncertainty of all ordinary enjoyments, and the the degree of master of arts, Dunbar became a friar of the Franciscan order (Grey Friars), in which ca

This wavering warld's wretchedness pacity he travelled for some years not only in Scot

The failing and fruitless business, land, but also in England and France, preaching, as

The misspent time, the service vain, was the custom of the order, and living by the alms

For to consider is ane pain. of the pious, a mode of life which he himself acknowledges to have involved a constant exercise of false- The sliding joy, the gladness short, hood, deceit, and flattery. In time, he had the grace, The feigned love, the false comfort, or was enabled by circumstances, to renounce this The sweir abade, the slightful train, sordid profession. It is supposed, from various al

For to consider is ane pain. lusions in his writings, that, from about the year

The suggared mouths, with minds therefra, 1491 to 1500, he was occasionally employed by the

The figured speech, with faces tway; king (James IV.) in some subordinate, but not un

The pleasing tongues, with hearts unplain, important capacity, in connexion with various fo

For to consider is ane pain. reign embassies, and that he thus visited Germany, Italy, Spain, and France, besides England and Ire- Or, in another poemland. He could not, in such a life, fail to acquire

Evermair unto this warld's joy, much of that knowledge of mankind which forms so

As nearest heir, succeeds annoy ; important a part of the education of the poet. In

Therefore when joy may not remain, 1500, he received from the king a pension of ten pounds, afterwards increased to twenty, and finally

His very heir, succeedés Pain. to eighty. He is supposed to have been employed He is, at the same time, by no means disposed habituby James in some of the negotiations preparatory to ally to take gloomy or desponding views of life. He his marriage with the Princess Margaret, daughter has one poem, of which each stanza ends with "For of Henry VII., which took place in 1503. For some to be blyth methink it best.' In another, he advises, years ensuing, he seems to have lived at court, re- since life is so uncertain, that the good things of this galing his royal master with his poetical composi- world should be rationally enjoyed while it is yet tions, and probably also his conversation, the charms possible. • Thine awn gude spend,' says he, while of which, judging from his writings, must have been thou has space. There is yet another, in which very great. It is sad to relate of one who possessed these Horatian maxims are still more pointedly so buoyant and mirthful a spirit, that his life was enforced, and from this we shall select a few not, as far as we can judge, a happy one.

He ap- stanzas :pears to have repined greatly at the servile courtlife which he was condemned to lead, and to have Be merry, man, and tak not sair in mind longed anxiously for some independent source of in- The wavering of this wretched world of sorrow; come. Amongst his poems, are many containing To God be humble, to thy friend be kind, nothing but expressions of solicitude on this subject. And with thy neighbours gladly lend and borrow; He survived the year 1517, and is supposed to have His chance to-night, it may be thine to-morrow; died about 1520, at the age of sixty; but whether | Be blyth in hearte for my aventure, he ultimately succeeded in obtaining preferment, is For oft with wise men it has been said aforow, not known. His writings, with scarcely any excep- Without Gladness availes no Treasure. tion, remained in the obscurity of manuscript till the beginning of the last century ; but his fame has Make thee gude cheer of it that God thee sends, been gradually rising since then, and it was at

For warld's wrak but welfarez nought avails; length, in 1834, so great as to justify a complete Nae gude is thine save only that thou spends, edition of his works, by Mr David Laing.

Remanant all thou bruikes but with bails The poems of Dunbar may be said to be of three

Seek to solace when sadness thee assails; classes, the Allegorical, the Moral, and the Comic; In dolour lang thy life may not endure, besides which there is a vast number of productions

Wherefore of comfort set up all thy sails; composed on occasions affecting himself, and which Without Gladness availes no Treasure. may therefore be called personal poems. His chief

Follow on pity, flee trouble and debate,

And died himself, fro' dead him to succour ; With famous folkis hald thy company ;

0, whether was kythit there true love or none ! Be charitable and hum'le in thine estate,

He is most true and stedfast paramour,
For warldly honour lastes but a cry.

And love is lost but upon him alone.
For trouble in earth tak no melancholy;
Be rich in patience, if thou in gudes be poor;

The Merle said, Why put God so great beauty
Who lives merrily he lives mightily;

In ladies, with sic womanly having, Without Gladness availes no Treasure. ,

But gif he would that they suld lovit be?

To love eke nature gave them inclining, The philosophy of these lines is excellent.

And He of nature that worker was and king, Dunbar was as great in the comic as in the solemn Would nothing frustir put, nor let be seen, strain, but not so pure. His Tua Married Women Into his creature of his own making ; and the Widow is a conversational piece, in which A lusty life in Lovis service been. three gay ladies discuss, in no very delicate terms, The Nightingale said, Not to that behoof the merits of their husbands, and the means by Put God sic beauty in a lady's face, which wives may best advance their own interests. The Friars of Berwick (not certainly his) is a clever That she suld have the thank therefor or luve, but licentious tale. There is one piece of peculiar Of beauty, bounty, riches, time, or space,

But He, the worker, that put in her sic grace ; humour, descriptive of an imaginary, tournament And every gudeness that been to come or gone between a tailor and a shoemaker, in the same low The thank redounds to him in every place : region where he places the dance of the seven deadly

, All love is lost, but upon God alone. sins. It is in a style of the broadest farce, and full of very offensive language, yet as droll as anything O Nightingale ! it were a story nice, in Scarron or Smollett.

That love suld not depend on charity ;

And, gif that virtue contrar be to vice,
The Merle and Nightingale.

Then love maun be a virtue, as thinks me;

For, aye, to love envy maun contrar be: In May, as that Aurora did upspring,

God bade eke love thy neighbour fro the spleen ;? With crystal een chasing the cluddes sable,

And who than ladies sweeter neighbours be ? I heard a Merle with merry notis sing

A lusty life in Lovis service been. A sang of love, with voice right comfortable,

The Nightingale said, Bird, why does thou rave ! Again' the orient beamis, amiable,

Man may take in his lady sic delight, Upon a blissful branch of laurel green ;

Him to forget that her sic virtue gave, This was her sentence, sweet and delectable,

And for his heaven receive her colour white: A lusty life in Lovis service been.

Her golden tressit hairis redomite, 3 Under this branch ran down a river bright,

Like to Apollo's beamis tho' they shone,

Suld not him blind fro' love that is perfite ;
Of balmy liquor, crystalline of hue,

All love is lost but upon God alone.
Again' the heavenly azure skyis light,
Where did upon the tother side pursue

The Merle said, Love is cause of honour aye,
A Nightingale, with sugared notis new,

Love makis cowards manhood to purchase, Whose angel feathers as the peacock shone ;

Love makis knichtis hardy at essay, This was her song, and of a sentence true,

Love makis wretches full of largeness, All love is lost but upon God alone.

Love makis sweir 4 folks full of business, With potis glad, and glorious harmony,

Love makis sluggards fresh and well be seen, This joyful merle, so salust she the day,

Love changes vice in virtuous nobleness ; While rung the woodis of her melody,

A lusty life in Lovis service been. Saying, Awake, ye lovers of this May ;

The Nightingale said, True is the contrary; Lo, fresh Flora has flourished every spray,

Sic frustis love it blindis men so far, As nature has her taught, the noble queen,

Into their minds it makis them to vary ; The field been clothit in a new array ;

In false vain glory they so drunken are, A lusty life in Lovis service been.

Their wit is went, of woe they are not waur, Ne'er sweeter noise was heard with living man,

While that all worship away be fro' them gone, Na made this merry gentle nightingale ;

Fame, goods, and strength ; wherefore well say I daur, Her sound went with the river as it ran,

All love is lost but upon God alone.
Out through the fresh and flourished lusty vale ; Then said the Merle, Mine error I confess :
O Merle ! quoth she, O fool! stint of thy tale, This frustis love is all but vanity :
For in thy song good sentence is there none,

Blind ignorance me gave sic hardiness,
For both is tint, the time and the travail

To argue so again' the verity ; Of every love but upon God alone.

Wherefore I counsel every man that he

With love not in the feindis net be tone, 5 Cease, quoth the Merle, thy preaching, Nightingale :

But love the love that did for his love die :
Shall folk their youth spend into holiness?

All love is lost but upon God alone.
Of young sanctís, grows auld feindís, but fable ;
Fye, hypocrite, in yeiris tenderness,

Then sang they both with voices loud and clear, Again' the law of kind thou goes express,

The Merle sang, Man, love God that has thee wrought. That crookit age makes one with youth serene, The Nightingale sang, Man, love the Lord most dear, Whom nature of conditions made diverse :

That thee and all this world made of nought. A lusty life in Lovis service been.

The Merle said, Love him that thy love has sought The Nightingale said, Fool, remember thee,

Fro' heaven to earth, and here took flesh and bone. That both in youth and eild,' and every hour,

The Nightingale sang, And with his dead thee bought: The love of God most dear to man suld be ;

All love is lost, but upon him alone. That him, of nought, wrought like his own figour,