'Worschippe, ye that loveris bene, this May, Come somer, come, the suete seson and sonne, Thank Lufe that list you to his merci call.' Quhen thai this song had song a littil thrawe1, From beugh to beugh thay hippit and thai plaid, Thaire fatheris" new, and fret thame in the sonne, This was the planë ditie of thair note, And therewithall unto myself I thought, It is nothing, trowe I, bot feynit chere, Eft wold I think, O Lord, quhat may this be? Is it of him, as we in bukis fynd, For giff he be of so grete excellence, That he of every wight hath cure and charge, That I am thrall, and birdis gone at large? Can I not ellis fynd bot giff that he Be lord, and, as a god, may lyve and regne, To bynd, and louse, and maken thrallis free, Than wold I pray his blissful grace benigne To hable1 me unto his service digne, And evermore for to be one of tho Him trewly for to serve in wele and wo. And therewith kest I doun myn eye ageyne, The fairest or the freschest youngë floure And though I stood abaisit tho a lyte, No wonder was; for quhy? my wittis all And in my hede I drew rycht hastily, Or ar ye god Cupidis owin princesse ? That have depayntit with your hevinly hand 1 enable. ' pride, lit. menace 3 token. Giff ye a goddesse be, and that ye like 2 Giff ye be warldly wight, that dooth me sike', That lufis you all, and wote of nought but wo? My hert, my will, my nature, and my mynd, In hir was youth, beautee, with humble aport, In word, in dede, in schap, in contenance, And, at the last, my luke unto the hevin O Venus clere! of goddis stellifyit, To quhom I yelde homage and sacrifise, 5 That me ressauit have in such [a] wise, Quhen I with gude entent this orison I kest, behalding unto hir lytill hound, Than wold I say, and sigh therewith a lyte, That sat upon the twiggis, wold I chide, FROM For Venus' sake, the blisfull goddesse clere, THE GUDE AND GODLIE BALLATES' (1570). And vertew is flour and rute of nobles ay, Ris' steppis few, and dreid for none effray : Lufe maist thy God, that first thy lufe began, 1 rise. For as it cummis, sa will it pass away; Thou dant thy toung, that power hes and may, Refraine thy lust, and harkin quhat I say; And for ilk inche He will thé quyte ane span. ROBERT HENRYSON. [Of ROBERT HENRYSON, the charming fabulist, Chaucer's aptest and brightest scholar, almost nothing is known. David Laing conjectures him to have been born about 1425, to have been educated at some foreign university, and to have died towards the closing years of the fifteenth century. It is certain that in 1462, being then 'in Artibus Licentiatus et in Decretis Bacchalarius,' he was incorporated of the University of Glasgow; and that he was afterwards schoolmaster in Dunfermline, and worked there as a notary-public also.] Henryson was an accomplished man and a good and genuine poet. He had studied Chaucer with the ardour and insight of an original mind, and while he has much in common with his master, he has much that is his own. His verse is usually well-minted and of full weight. Weak lines are rare in him; he had the instinct of the refrain, and was fond of doing feats in rhythm and rhyme; he is close, compact, and energetic. Again, he does not often let his learning or his imagination run away with him and divert him from his main issue. He subordinates himself to the matter he has in hand; he keeps himself to the point, and never seeks to develope for development's sake; and so, as it appears to me, he approves himself a true artist. It follows that, as a storyteller, he is seen to great advantage. He narrates with a gaiety, an ease, a rapidity, not to be surpassed in English literature between Chaucer and Burns. That, moreover, he was a born dramatist, there is scarce one of his fables but will prove. It is to be noted that he uses dialogue as a good playwright would use it; it is a means with him not only of explaining a personage but of painting a situation, not only of introducing a moral but of advancing an intrigue. He had withal an abundance of wit, humour, and good sense; he had considered life and his fellow |