So new, so fresch, so pleasant to behold, About hir neck, quhite as the fayre anmaille, Semyt birnying upon hir quhite throte. And for to walk that fresche Mayes morowe, In hir was youth, beautee, with humble aport, In word, in dede, in schap, in contenance, That nature mycht no more hir childe auance. To dance thir damysellis them dicht, Their gloves were of the raffell right, Of all these maidens mild as meid, Her lyre was like the lily: Alone, She scorned Jock and skraipet at him, He cherisht her, she bad go chat him, Tom Lutar was their minstrel meet, O Lord, as he could lanss, Old Light-foot, there he did forleit, Full loud, At Christ's Kirk on the green, that day. Then Stephen came stepping in with stends, For Maud he made request: That day, Syne Robin Roy began to revel And Downy till him druggit, Let be, quoth Jock, and call'd him javell, And by the tail him tugged; And with three routis they raised him, And couverit him of swoune, Again, At Christ's Kirk on the green, that day, A zaip young man, that stood him neist, He ettlit the bern in at the breist, Then bow and bag from him he keist, With forkis and flailis they let great flappis, With bowgaris of barnis that beft blue kappis, When rungis was laid on riggis; The wyffis come forth, with cryis and clappis, Lo! where my liking liggis, Quoth they, At Christ's Kirk on the green, that day. They girnit, and leit gird, with granis, Some struck with stingis, some gathered stanis, The minstrel wan within two wanis, That day, full well he previt; For he came home with unbirs'd banis, When that he saw his blood so reid, The far farar it set him; While he was past out of all pleid, The town sowtar in grief was bowdin, His body was with blood all browdin, He granit like any gaist; His glittering hair, that was full gowden, That for her sake he was not zowdin, And more, At Christ's Kirk on the green, that day. The miller was of manly mak, To meet him was no mowis; The buschment haill about him brak, At Christ's Kirk on the green, that day. Two that were heidsmen of the herd, Most like, At Christ's Kirk on the green, that day. The wives kest up an hideous yell, When all the yunkeris yokkit; As fierce as any fyr-flaught fell, Friekes to the field they flokkit: The carlis with clubbis could other quell, While blood at briestis out bokkit; So rudely rang the commoun bell, While all the steeple rokkit, For reird, At Christ's Kirk on the green, that day. When they had beirit, like baited bullis, And branewod, brynt in bailis, They wox as meek as any mulis, That mangit were with mailis: For faintness thir forfochin fulis Fell down, like flauchtir failis; Fresh men came in and haild the duks And dang them down in dailis, Bedene, When all was done, Dick, with an aix, DIVINE TRUST.1 Sen throw vertew incressis dignitie, His steppis follow, and dreid for none effi Be not ouir proude in thy prosperitie, For as it cummis, sa will it pas away; The tyme to compt is schort, thow may we For of grene grass sone cummis wallowit Labour in truth quhilk suith is of thy fay Traist maist in God, for He best gyde thé And for ilk inche He will thé quyte ane sp Sen word is thrall, and thocht is only fre, Thou dant thy toung that power hes and Thou steik thy ene fra warldis vanitie, Refraine thy lust and harkin quhat I say Graip or tho slyde, and keip furth the hi Thou hald the fast upon thy God and man And for ilk inche He will thé quyte ane sp Benedictine convent of that town. It is sup posed that he was born about the year 1430, and it is known that he died at an advanced age, as Sir Francis Kinaston tells us "that being very old, he died of a diarrhoe or fluxe." It is also known that he passed away early in the sixteenth century, as his name appears among the latest of the poets lamented by Dunbar in his poem on the "Deth of the Makkaris," printed in the year 1508: "In Dumfermling he hes tane Broun, On the poet's own testimony he appears to "I made the fire, and beked me aboute, Then toke I drink, my spirits to comforte, Of this poem a critic says, "Wittily observing that Chaucer, in his fifth book, had related the death of Troilus, but made no mention what became of Creseide, he learnedly takes upon him, in a fine poetical way, to express the punishment and end due to a false inconstant, which commonly ends in extreme misery." The poem was first printed by Henry Charteris in 1593, and has been appended to various editions of Chaucer's Troilus and Creseide. The "Testament of Creseide" and Henryson's pastoral poem of "Robene and Makyne," the earliest of bucolics in the Scottish language, was printed (sixty-five copies) for the Bannatyne Club in 1824 by George Chalmers. Of the latter poem a writer in Blackie's Dictionary of Eminent Scotsmen remarks, "I consider it superior in many respects to the similar attempts of Spenser and Broune; it is free from the glaring improprieties which sometimes appear in the pastorals of those more recent writers, and it exhibits many genuine strokes of poetical delineation." His poetical tale entitled “The Traitie of Orpheus Kyng, and how he came to yeid to hewyn and to hel to seik his Quene," was first published in 1508. Portions of both of these poems have been highly commended by Sir Walter Scott, Warton, and other competent judges: but it is in his fables that Henryson's poetical powers appear to greatest advantage. The best of his "Fabils," thirteen in number, is the common story of the "Town Mouse and the City Mouse," which he treats with much humour and characteristic description, and concludes with a beautifully expressed moral. He gives it the Scotch title of "The Borrowstoun Mous and the Landwart Mous." This collection, in manuscript, is still preserved in the Harleian Library, and is dated 1571. The "Fables" of Henryson were reprinted in 1832 for the Bannatyne Club, from the edition of Andrew Hart, printed in Edinburgh, 1621, -of which the only known copy is in the Advocates' Library—with a memoir prefixed by Dr. Irving, the editor. "Nearly the whole of Henryson's poems," says a critic, "bear evidence of having been composed in the decline of life. In this he resembled his model Chaucer, whose Canterbury Tales, the best of all his works, were written when on the verge of threescore years and ten. Henryson had not, however, like Chaucer, cause to blame a vagrant muse in his dying hours, for anything in his writings which might pollute to future ages the stream of future morals. His sentiments are uniformly worthy of his years-pure, chastened, and instructive; and whatever share of the poetical art he displays it is solely employed in giving to the lessons of virtue some heightening charm, or rendering the ways of vice more odious." Until recently it was a subject of regret that only specimens of Henryson's poems were to be met with in the collections of Hailes, Pinkerton, Ramsay, Sibbald, Irving, and Ellis. The desideratum was at length supplied by David Laing, who first collected his poetical writings and prepared a memoir of his life, issued at Edinburgh in 1865. THE TWO MICE.' Esope, myne autour, makis mentioun The rurall mouss into the winter tyde Had hungar, cauld, and tholit grit distress; Ane tyme quhen scho was full, and on fute fure, And se quhat lyfe scho led under the wand: Throw mony wilsum wayis couth scho walk, Throw mure and moss, throwout bank, busk, and breyir, Fra fur to fur, cryand fra balk to balk, Cum furth to me, myne sueit sister deir! Cry peip anis-with that the mouse couth heir. And knew her voce, as kynnismen will do By verry kind; and furth scho came her to. Their hairtly cheir, Lord God! gif ye had seen, Was kyind quhen thir sisters twa wer met, Quhilk that oft syss was schawin thame betwene; For quhyles thai leuch, and quhyles for joy thay gret; Quhyles kissit sueit, and quhyles in armis plet. And thus they fure, quhill sobirt was their meid, Then fute for fute onto thair chalmer yeid. As I hard say, it was a simple wane Off fog and ferne, full maikly was it maid, A silly scheill under a yerd-fast stane, Of quhilk the entry was not hie nor bred: Quhen they war lugit thus, thir silly myss, 1 Sibbald says, "This fable is written with much naïveté, and being the very first example of that manner in the Scottish language, is eminently curious."--ED. Than said, sister, is this your daily fude? Na, be my saul, me think it but a skorn; Ma dame, quod sche, ye be the mair to blame; My moder said, after that we wer born, That ye and I lay baith within her wame; I kep the rycht auld custom of my dame, And of my syre, lyvand in povertie, For landis haif we nane of propertie. My fair sister, quod scho, haif me excusit; Quhilk usit wer befor to meit mair tender. Weill, weill sister, than quoth the rural mouss, Gif that ye pleiss sic things as ye se heir, Baith meit and drink, and arbourie and house, Sall be your awin-will ye remain all yeir, Ye sall it haif, with blyth and hairtly cheir; And that suld make the messes that are rude, Amang friendis richt tendir, sueit and gude. Quhat plesans is in feists feir dilicate, The quhilk ar given with a gloumand brow; A gentle heart is better recreate With blyth usage than seith to him a cow; Ane Modicum is better, yeill allow, Sae that gude-will be carver at the dess, Than a thrawn vult, and mony a spycie mess For all this moral exhortatioun, The burges mous had little will to sing, But hevely scho kest her visage doun, For all the daintys scho couth till her bring; Yit at the last scho said, half in hiething, Sister, this vittell and your ryal feist May weill suffice for sic a rural beist. Let be this hole, and cum unto my place, Of cat, nor fall, nor trap, I haif nae dreid. In skugry ay throw rankest gras and corn, And wonder slie prively throw they creip; The eldest was the gyde, and went beforn, The yunger to her wayis tuke gude keip; On nicht they ran, and on the day did sleip, |