The

Oxford Book

Of English Verse

115-0-1900

Oxford University Press London Edinburgh Glasgow .Weiv Tork

Toronto Melbourne Cape Town Bombay Humphrey Milford Publisher to the University

The

Oxford Book

Of English Verse

1x5-0-1900

Chosen & Edited by Arthur Quill er-Couch

Oxford At the Clarendon Press

PRINTED IN ENGLAND AT THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

TO

THE PRESIDENT FELLOWS AND SCHOLARS

or TRINITY COLLEGE OXFORD

A HOUSE OF LEARNING

ANCIENT LIBERAL HUMANE

AND MY MOST KINDLY NURSE

2032980

PREFACE

FOR this Anthology I have tried to range over the whole field of English Verse from the beginning, or from the Thirteenth Century to this closing year of the Nineteenth, and to choose the best. Nor have I sought in these Islands only, but wheresoever the Muse has followed the tongue which among living tongues she most delights to honour. To bring home and render so great a spoil com- pendiously has been my capital difficulty. It is for the reader to judge if I have so managed it as to serve those who already love poetry and to implant that love in some young minds not yet initiated.

My scheme is simple. I have arranged the poets as nearly as possible in order of birth, with such groupings of anonymous pieces as seemed convenient. For convenience, too, as well as to avoid a dispute-royal, I have gathered the most of the Ballads into the middle of the Seventeenth Century; where they fill a languid interval between two winds of inspiration — the Italian dying down with Milton and the French following at the heels of the restored Royalists. For convenience, again, I have set myself certain rules of spelling. In the very earliest poems inflection and spelling are structural, and to modernize is to destroy. But

PREFACE

as old inflections fade into modern the old spelling becomes less and less vital, and has been brought (not, I hope, too abruptly) into line with that sanctioned by use and familiar. To do this seemed wiser than to discourage many readers for the sake of diverting others by a scent of antiquity which — to be essential — should breathe of something rarer than an odd arrangement of type. But there are scholars whom I cannot expect to agree with me; and to conciliate them I have excepted Spenser and Milton from the rule.

Glosses of archaic and otherwise difficult words are given at the foot of the page : but the text has not been disfigured with reference-marks. And rather than make the book unwieldy I have eschewed notes — reluctantly when some obscure passage or allusion seemed to ask for a timely word ; with more equanimity when the temptation was to criticize or ' appreciate.' For the function of the anthologist includes criticizing in silence.

Care has been taken with the texts. But I have sometimes thought it consistent with the aim of the book to prefer the more beautiful to the better attested reading. I have often excised weak or superfluous stanzas when sure that excision would improve; and have not hesitated to extract a few stanzas from a long poem when persuaded that they could stand alone as a lyric. The apology for such experiments can only lie in their success : but the risk is one which, in my judgement, the anthologist ought to take. A few small corrections have been made, but only when they were quite obvious.

PREFACE

The numbers chosen are either lyrical or epigrammatic. Indeed I am mistaken if a single epigram included fails to preserve at least some faint thrill of the emotion through which it had to pass before the Muse's lips let it fall, with however exquisite deliberation. But the lyrical spirit is volatile and notoriously hard to bind with definitions ; and seems to grow wilder with the years. With the anthologist — as with the fisherman who knows the fish at the end of his sea-line — the gift, if he have it, comes by sense, improved by practice. The definition, if he be clever enough to frame one, comes by after-thought. I don't know that it helps, and am sure that it may easily mislead.

Having set my heart on choosing the best, I resolved not to be dissuaded by common objections against anthologies — that theyrepeatone another until the proverb Sis^T/HsraKaAa loses all application — or perturbed if my judgement should often agree with that of good critics. The best is the best, though a hundred judges have declared it so ; nor had it been any feat to search out and insert the second-rate merely because it happened to be recondite. To be sure, a man must come to such a task as mine haunted by his youth and the favourites he loved in days when he had much enthusiasm but little reading.

A deeper import

Lurks in the legend told my infant years Than lies upon that truth we live to learn.

Few of my contemporaries can erase— or would wish to erase— the dye their minds took from the late Mr. Palgrave's

PREFACE

Golden Treasury : and he who has returned to it again and again with an affection born of companionship on many journeys must remember not only what the Golden Treasury includes, but the moment when this or that poem appealed to him, and even how it lies on the page. To Mr. Bullen's Lyrics from the Elizabethan Song Books and his other treasuries I own a more advised debt. Nor am I free of obligation to anthologies even more recent — to Archbishop Trench's House- hold Book of Poetry, Mr. Locker-Lampson's Lyra Elegan- tiarum, Mr. Miles' Poets and Poetry of the Century, Mr. Beeching's Paradise of English Poetry, Mr. Henley's English Lyrics, Mrs. Sharp's Lyra Celtica, Mr. Yeats' Book of Irish Verse, and Mr. Churton Collins' Treasury of Minor British Poetry : though my rule has been to consult these after making my own choice. Yet I can claim that the help derived from them — though gratefully owned — bears but a trifling proportion to the labour, special and desultory, which has gone to the making of my book.

For the anthologist's is not quite the dilettante business for which it is too often and ignorantly derided. I say this, and immediately repent ; since my wish is that the reader should in his own pleasure quite forget the editor's labour, which too has been pleasant : that, standing aside, I may believe this book has made the Muses' access easier when, in the right hour, they come to him to uplift or to console —

eywye p.fvoip.i w e's Se Ka\fvvr<ov Mouraio-i crw apfTtpaunv tfcot/xav

PREFACE

My thanks are here tendered to those who have helped me with permission to include recent poems : to Mr. A. C. Benson, Mr. Laurence Binyon, Mr. Wilfrid Blunt, Mr. Robert Bridges, Mr. John Davidson, Mr. Austin Dobson, Mr. Aubrey de Vere, Mr. Edmund Gosse, Mr. Bret Harte, Mr. W. E. Henley, Mrs. Katharine Tynan Hinkson, Mr. W. D. Howells, Dr. Douglas Hyde, Mr. Rudyard Kipling, Mr. Andrew Lang, Mr. Richard Le Gallienne, Mr. George Meredith, Mrs. Meynell, Mr. T. Sturge Moore, Mr. Henry Newbolt, Mr. Gilbert Parker, Mr. T. W. Rolle- ston, Mr. George Russell ('A. E.'), Mrs. Clement Shorter (Dora Sigerson), Mr. Swinburne, Mr. Francis Thompson, Dr. Todhunter, Mr. William Watson, Mr. Watts-Dunton, Mrs. Woods, and Mr. W. B. Yeats ; to the Earl of Crewe for a poem by the late Lord Houghton ; to Lady Ferguson, Mrs. Allingham, Mrs. A. H. Clough, Mrs. Locker-Lampson, Mrs. Coventry Patmore ; to the Lady Betty Balfour and the Lady Victoria Buxton for poems by the late Earl of Lytton and the Hon. Roden Noel ; to the executors of Messrs. Frederic Tennyson (Captain Tennyson and Mr. W. C. A. Ker), Charles Tennyson Turner (Sir Franklin Lushington), Edward Fitz- Gerald (Mr. Aldis Wright), William Bell Scott (Mrs. Sydney Morse and Miss Boyd of Penkill Castle, who has added to her kindness by allowing me to include an unpublished ' Sonet ' by her sixteenth-century ancestor, Mark Alexander Boyd), William Philpot (Mr. Hamlet S. Philpot), William Morris (Mr. S. C. Cockerell), William Barnes, and R. L. Stevenson; to the Rev. H. C. Beeching for two poems

xi

PREFACE

from his own works, and leave to use his redaction of Quia Amore Langueo • to Messrs. Macmillan for confirming permission for the extracts from FitzGerald, Christina Rossetti, and T. E. Brown, and particularly for allowing me to insert the latest emendations in Lord Tennyson's non-copyright poems; to the proprietors of Mr. and Mrs. Browning's copyrights and to Messrs. Smith, Elder & Co. for a similar favour, also for a copyright poem by Mrs. Browning ; to Mr. George Allen for extracts from Ruskin and the author of lonica ; to Messrs. G. Bell & Sons for poems by Thomas Ashe ; to Messrs. Chatto & Windus for poems by Arthur O'Shaughnessy and Dr. George MacDonald, and for con- firming Mr. Bret Harte's permission ; to Mr. Elkin Mathews for a poem by Mr. Bliss Carman; to Mr. John Lane for two poems by William Blighty Rands ; to the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge for two extracts from Christina Rossetti's Verses ; and to Mr. Bertram Dobell, who allows me not only to select from James Thomson but to use a poem of Traherne's, a seventeenth-century singer redis- covered by him. To mention all who in other ways have furthered me is not possible in this short Preface ; which, however, must not conclude without a word of special thanks to Dr. W. Robertson Nicoll for many suggestions and some pains kindly bestowed, and to Professor F. York Powell, whose help and wise counsel have been as generously given as they were eagerly sought, adding me to the number of those many who have found his learning to be his friends' good fortune.

A.T.Q.C.

October itpoo

Cuckoo Song

C 1250

GUMER is icumen in, ^ Lhude sing cuccu! Groweth sed, and bloweth med, And springth the wude nu — Sing cuccu \

Awe bleteth after lomb, Lhouth after calve cu ;

Bulluc sterteth, bucke verteth, M'.irie sing cuccu !

Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu, cuccu:

Ne swike thu naver nu ; Sing cuccu, nu, sing cuccu,

Sing cuccu, sing cuccu, nu 1

Ihnde] loud. awe] ewe. Ihouth] loweth, stertetL] leaps, swikej cease.

ANONYMOUS

2. Alison

c. 1300

DYTUENE Mershe ant Averil & When spray biginneth to spring, The lutel foul hath hire wyl

On hyre lud to synge : Ich libbe in love-longinge For semlokest of alle thynge, He may me blisse bringe,

Icham in hire bandoun. An hendy hap ichabbe y-hent, Ichot from hevene it is me sent, From alle wymmen my love is lent

Ant lyht on Alisoun.

On heu hire her is fayr ynoh,

Hire browe broune, hire eye blake ; With lossom chere he on me loh ;

With middel smal ant wel y-make ; Sole he me wolle to hire take For to buen hire owen make, Long to lyven ichulle forsake

Ant feye fallen adoun. An hendy hap, etc.

Nihtes when I wende and wake, For-thi myn wonges waxeth won ;

on hyre lud] in her language. ich libbe] I live. semlokest] seemliest. he] she. bandoun] thraldom. hendy] gracious, y-hent] seized, enjoyed. ichot] I wot. lyht] alighted,

hire her] her hair. lossom] lovesome. loh] laughed,

bote he] unless she. make] mate. feye] like to die. nihtes] at night. wende] turn. for-thi] on that account. wonges

waxeth won] cheeks grow wan.

ANONYMOUS

Levedi, al for thine sake

Longinge is y-lent me on. In world his non so wyter mon That al hire bounte telle con ; Hire swyre is whittore than the swon.

Ant feyrest may in toune. An hendy hap, etc.

Icham for wowyng al for-wake,

Wery so water in wore ; Lest any reve me my make Ichabbe y-yerned yore. Betere is tholien whyle sore Then mournen evermore. Geynest under gore, Herkne to my roun — An hendy hap, etc.

3. Spring-tide

c. zjoo

T ENTEN ys come with love to toune, •*-' With blosmen ant with briddes roune,

That al this blisse bryngeth ; Dayes-eyes in this dales, Notes suete of nyhtegales, Vch foul song singeth ;

2. levedi] lady, y-lent me on] arrived to me. so wyter mon] so wise a man. swyre] neck. may] maid. for- wake] worn out with vigils. so water in wore] as water in a weir. reve] rob.

y-yerned yore] long been distressed. tholien] to endure. gtynest under gore] comeliest under woman's apparel. rouu] tale, lay.

f. to toune] in its turn.

3

ANONYMOUS

The threstlecoc him threteth oo, Away is huere wynter wo,

When woderove springeth; This foules singeth ferly fele, Ant wlyteth on huere winter wele.

That al the wode ryngeth

The rose rayleth hire rode, The leves on the lyhte wode

Waxen al with wille ; The mone mandeth hire bleo, The lilie is lossom to seo,

The fenyl ant the fille ; Wowes this wilde drakes, Miles murgeth huere makes ;

Ase strem that striketh stille, Mody meneth ; so doth mo (Ichot ycham on of tho)

For loue that likes ille.

The mone mandeth hire lyht, So doth the semly sonne bryht. When briddes singeth breme ; Deawes donketh the dounes, Deores with huere derne rounes

Domes forte deme ;

him threteth oo] is aye chiding them. huere] their. woderove] woodruff. ferly fele] marvellous many. wlyteth] whistle, or

look. rayleth hire rode] clothes herself in red. mandeth hire bleo] sends forth her light. lossom to seo] lovesome to see. fille] thyme. wowes] woo. miles] males. murgeth] make merry, makes] mates. striketh] flows, trickles. mody meneth] the

moody man makes moan. so doth mo] so do many. on of tho] one of them. breme] lustily. deawes]dews. donketh] make dank. deores] dears, lovers. huere derne rounes] their secret tales. domes forte deme] for to give (decide) their decisions.

ANONYMOUS

Wormes woweth under cloude, Wymmen waxeth wounder proude

So wel hit wol hem seme, Yef me shal wonte wille of on, This wunne weole y wole forgon

Ant wyht in wode be fleme.

4. Blow, Northern Wind

C. 1300

TCHOT a burde in boure bryht, *• That fully semly is on syht, Menskful maiden of myht ;

Feir ant fre to fonde; In al this wurhliche won A burde of blod ant of bon, Never yete y nuste non Lussomore in londe.

Blou northerne wynd !

Send thou me my suetyng !

Blou northerne wynd 1 blou, blou, blou !

With lokkes lefliche ant longe, With frount ant face feir to fonge, With murthes monie mote heo monge, That brid so breme in boure.

3. clonde] clod. wunne weole] wealth of joy. y wole forgon] 1 will forgo. wyht] wight. fleme] banished.

4. Ichot] I know. burde] maiden. menskful] worshipful, feir] fair. fonde] take, prove. wurhliche] noble. won] multitude. y nuste] I knew not. lussomore in londe] lovelier on earth. suetyng] sweetheart. lefiiche] lovely. fonge] take between hands. murthes] mirths, joys. mote heo mongej may she mingle. brid] bird. breme] full of life.

5

ANONYMOUS

With lossom eye grete ant gode. With browen blysfol under hode, He that reste him on the Rode, That leflych lyf honoure. Blou northerne wynd, etc.

Hire lure lumes liht Ase a launterne a nyht, Hire bleo blykyeth so bryht,

So feyr heo is ant fyn. A suetly swyre heo hath to holde, With armes shuldre ase mon wolde, Ant fmgres feyre forte folde,

God wolde hue were myn ! Blou northerne wynd, etc.

Heo is coral of godnesse, Heo is ruble of ryhtfulnesse, Heo is cristal of clannesse,

Ant baner of bealte. Heo is lilie of largesse, Heo is parvenke of prouesse, Heo is solsccle of suetnesse,

Ant lady of lealte.

For hire love y carke ant care, For hire love y droupne ant dare, For hire love my blisse is bare Ant al ich waxe won,

Rode] the Cross. lure] face. lumes] beams. bleo] colour suetly swyre] darling neck. forte] for to. hue, heo] she.

clannesse] cleanness, purity. parvenke] periwinkle, solsecle] sunflower. won] wan.

6

ANONYMOUS

For hire love in slep y slake, For hire love al nyht ich wake, For hire love mournynge y make More then eny nion.

Blou northerne wynd !

Send thou me my suetyng !

Blou northerne wynd ! blou, blou, blou !

This World's Joy

c. 1300

wakeneth al my care, Nou this leves waxeth bare; Ofte I sike ant mourne sare When hit cometh in my thoht Of this v/orldes joie, hou hit goth al to noht

Nou hit is, and nou hit nys,

Al so hit ner nere, ywys ;

That moni mon seith, soth hit ys :

Al goth bote Codes wille :

Alle we shule deye, thah us like ylle.

Al that gren me graueth grene Nou hit faleweth albydene : Jesu, help that hit be sene

Ant shild us from helle!

For y not whider y shal, ne hou longe her duelle.

/. this leves] these leaves. sike] sigh. nys] is not. also hit ner nere] as though it had never been. sothj sooth bote] but, except thah] though. faleweth] fadeth. albydene] altogether y cot whider] I know not whither. her duelle] here dwell.

ANONYMOUS 6» A Hymn to the firgin

C. 1 OO

OF on that is so fayr and bright Velut marts Stella, Brighter than the day is light,

Parent et puella : Ic crie to the, thou see to me, Levedy, preye thi Sone for me,

Tarn pla,

That ic mote come to thee Maria.

Al this world was for-lore

Eva peccatrice, Tyl our Lord was y-bore

De tt genetriee. With ave it went away Thuster nyth and comz the day

Salutis ; The welle springeth ut of the,

Vlrtotlt.

Levedy, flour of alle thing,

Rosa sine spina, Thu here Jhesu, hevene king,

Gratia divina : Of alle thu ber'st the pris, Levedy, quene of paradys

Electa : Mayde milde, moder «

Effecta.

on] oae. levedy] lady. thuster] dark. pris] prize.

8

ANONYMOUS

7. Of a rose, a lovefy rose,

Of a rose is al myn song.

c. 1350 T ESTENYT, lordynges, boih elde and jynge,

How this rose began to tprynge ; Swych a rose to myn lykynge

In al this word ne knowe I non.

The Aungil came fro hevene tour, To grete Marye with gret honour, And seyde sche xuld here the flour That xulde breke the fyndes bond.

The flour sprong in heye Bedlem, That is bothe bryht and schen : The rose is Mary hevene qwyn,

Out of here bosum the blosme sprong.

The ferste braunche is ful of myht, That sprang on Cyrstemesse nyht, The sterre schon over Bedlem bryht That is bothe brod and long.

The secunde braunche sprong to helle, The fendys power doun to felle : Therein myht non sowle dwelle ;

Blyssid be the time the rose sprong 1

The thredde braunche is good and swote, It sprang to hevene crop and rote, Therein to dwellyn and ben our bote;

Every day it schewit in prystes hond.

lestenyt] listen, word] world, xuld] should. schen] beautiful, hevene qwyn] heaven's queen. bote] salvation.

D 9

ANONYMOUS

Prey we to here with gret honour, Che that bar the blyssid flowr, Che be our helpe and our socour

And schyd us fro the fyndes bond-

ROBERT MANNYNG OF BRUNNE 8. T raise of Women

NO thyng ys to man so dere As wommanys love in gode manere. A gode womman is mannys blys, There her love right and stedfast ys. There ys no solas under hevene Of alle that a man may nevene That shulde a man so moche glew As a gode womman that loveth true. Ne derer is none in Goddis hurde Than a chaste womman with lovely worde.

JOHN BARBOUR 0. Freedom

d. 1395

A | Fredome is a noble thing! •**• • Fredome mayse man to half liking; Fredome all solace to man giffis, He livis at ese that frely livis ! A noble hart may haif nane ese, Na ellys nocht that may him plese,

8. nevene] name. glew] gladden. hurde] flock. 9. liking] liberty. na ellys nocht] nor aught else.

JOHN BARBOUR

Gif fredome fail'th ; for fre liking Is yharnit ouer all othir thing. Na he that ay has livit frc May nocht knaw well the properte, The anger, na the wretchit doom That is couplit to foul thraldome. But gif he had assayit it, Then all perquer he suld it wit ; And suld think fredome mar to prise Than all the gold in warld that is. Thus contrar thingis evermar Discoweringis of the totliir are.

GEOFFREY CHAUCER 10. The Love Unfeigned

1340 '-1400 YONGE fresshe folkes, he or she,

In which that love up growcth with your age, Repeyreth hoom from worldly vanitee, And of your herte up-casteth the visage To thilke god that after his image Yow made, and thinketh al nis but a fayre This world, that passeth sone as floures fayre.

And loveth him, the which that right for !ov* Upon a cros, our soules for to beye, First starf, and roos, and sit in hevene a-bove ; For he nil falsen no wight, dar I seye, That wol his herte al hoolly on him leye. And sin he best to love is, and most meke, What nedeth feyned loves for to seke ?

9. yharnit] yearned for. perquer] thoroughly, by heart.

zo. repeyreth] repair ye. starf] died.

o

GEOFFREY CHAUCER

//. Balade

HYD, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere; Ester, ley thou thy meknesse al a-doun ; Hyd, Jonathas, al thy frendly manere ; Penalopee, and Marcia Catoun, Mak of your wyfhod no comparisoun ; Hyde ye your beautes, Isoude and Eleyne; My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne.

Thy faire body, lat hit nat appere,

Lavyne ; and thou, Lucresse of Rome toun,

And Polixene, that boghten love so dere,

And Cleopatre, with al thy passioun,

Hyde ye your trouthe of love and your renoun ;

And thou, Tisbe, that hast of love swich peyne ;

My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne.

Herro, Dido, Laudomia, alle y-fere,

And Phyllis, hanging for thy Demophoun,

And Canace, espyed by thy chere,

Ysiphile, betraysed with Jasoun,

Maketh of your trouthe neyther boost ne soun ;

Nor Ypermistre or Adriane, ye tweyne ;

My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne.

12. ^Merciles Beaute

A TRIPLE ROUNDEL

I. CAPTIVITY

VOUR eyen two wol slee me sodenly,

I may the beaute of hem not sustene, So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene. n. disteyne] bedim. y-fere] together.

GEOFFREY CHAUCER

And but your word wol Helen hastily My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene, Your eyen two wol slee me sodenly, I may the beaute of hem not sustene.

Upon my trouthe I sey yow feithfully, That ye ben of my lyf and deeth the quene ; For with my deeth the trouthe shal be sene. Your eyen two wol slee me sodenly, I may the beaute of hem not sustene, So woundeth hit through-out my herte Jrjne.

2. REJECTION.

So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne ; For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne

Giltles my deeth thus han ye me purchaced ;

I sey yow sooth, me nedeth not to feyne ; So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne.

Alias ! that nature hath in yow compassed So greet beaute, that no man may atteyne To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne. So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne ; For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

3- ESCAPE.

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat,

I never thenk to ben in his prison lene ;

Sin 1 am free, I counte him not a bene.

halt] holdeth.

GEOFFREY CHAUCER

He may answere, and seye this or that} I do no fors, I speke right as I mene. Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat, I never thenk to ben in his prison lene.

Love hath my name y-strike out of his sclat, And he is strike out of my bokes clene For ever-mo ; ther is non other mene. Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat, I never thenk to ben in his prison lene ; Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.

THOMAS HOCCLEVE 13. Lament for Chaucer

A LLAS! my worthy maister honorable, •**• This londes verray tresour and richesse ! Dethe by thy dethe hath harm irreparable Unto us done : hir vengeable duresse Despoiled hath this lond of the swctnesse Of rethoryk ; for unto Tullius Was never man so like amonges us.

Also who was heyr in philosofye

To Aristotle in our tunge but thou ?

The steppes of Virgile in poesye

Thou folvvedest eke, men wote wel ynow.

That combre-worlde that my maister slow

Wolde 1 slayn were 1— Dethe was to hastyf To renne on thee and reve thee thy lyf . .

is. sclat] slate. /,. }1Cyr] heir. combre-worlde]

encumberer of earth. slow] slew.

THOMAS HOCCLEVE

She might han tarried hir vengeance a whyle Til that some man had egal to thee be; Nay, let be that ! she knew wel that this yle May never man bring forthe like to thee, And her office nedes do mote she : God bade hir do so, I truste for the beste ; O maister, maister, God thy soule restel

JOHN LYDGATE

74. fox ultima Crucis

13707-1447

"PARY no longer; toward thyn heritage

A Haste on thy way, and be of right good chere.

Go ech day onward on thy pilgrimage ;

Thynk how short time thou shall abyde here.

Thy place is bigg'd above the sterres clere,

None eithly paleys wrought in so statly wyse.

Come on, my frend, my brother most entere 1

For thee 1 offred my blood in sacryfice.

KING JAMES I OF SCOTLAND /r. Spring: Sons: of the Birds

r 6 6 J 1394-1437

WfORSCHIPPE ye that loveris bene this May,

For of your blisse the Kalendis are begonne. And sing with us, Away, Winter, away !

Cum, Somer, cum, the suete sesoun and sonne ! Awake for schame ! that have your hevynnis wonne, And amorously lift up your hedis all, Thank Lufe that list you to his merci call !

*4- bigg'd] built. paleys] palace. if. suete] sweet

Lufe] Love

ROBERT HENRYSON Robin and <3

1425-1500

ROBIN sat on gude green hill, Kepand a flock of fe : Mirry Makyn said him till

' Robin, thou rew on me : I haif thee luvit, loud and still,

Thir yeiris twa or thre ; My dule in dern hot gif thou dill, Doutless but dreid I de.'

Robin answerit 'By the Rude

Na thing of luve I knaw, But keipis my sheip undir yon wud :

Lo, quhair they raik on raw. Quhat has marrit thee in thy mude

Makyn to me thou shaw ; Or quhat is luve, or to be lude?

Fain wad I leir that law.'

*At luvis lair gif thou will leir

Tak thair ane A B C ; Be heynd, courtass, and fair of feir,

Wyse, hardy, and free: So that no danger do thee deir

Quhat dule in dern thou dre ; Preiss thee with pain at all poweir

Be patient and previe.'

kepand] keeping. fe] sheep, cattle. him till] to him.

dule in dern] sorrow in secret. dill] soothe. but dreid] without dread, i. e. there is no fear or doubt. raik on raw] lange in

row. lude] loved. leir] learn. lair] lore. heynd] gentle. feir] demeanour. deir] daunt. dre] endure. preiss] endeavour. 16

ROBERT HENRYSON

Robin answerit hir agane,

'I wat not quhat is lufe; But I haif mervel in certaine

Quhat makis thee this wanmfe: The weddir is fair, and I am fain;

My sheep gois haill aboif; And we wald pley us in this plane,

They wald us baith reproif.'

4 Robin, tak tent unto my tale,

And wirk all as I reid, And thou sail haif my heart all haill,

Eik and my maiden-heid : Sen God sendis bute for baill,

And for murnyng remeid, In dern with thee bot gif I dale

Dowtles I am bot deid.'

'Makyn, to-morn this ilka tyde

And ye will meit me heir, Peraventure my sheip may gang besyde

Quhyle we haif liggit full neir ; But mawgre haif I, and I byde,

Fra they begin to steir; Quhat lyis on heart I will nocht hyd ;

Makyn, then mak gude cheir.'

* Robin, thou reivis me roifF and rest ;

I luve bot thee allane.'

* Makyn, adieu ! the sone gois west,

The day is neir-hand gane.'

wanrnfe] unrest haill] healthy, whole. aboif] above, up

yonder. and] an, if. tak tent] give heed. bute for baill]

remedy for hurt. bot gif] but if, unless. mawgre] ill-will

(of his master). reivis] robbest. roiff] quiet.

ROBERT HENRYSON

* Robin, in dule I am so drest

That luve will be my bane.' 'Gae luve, Makyne, quhair-evir thow list,

For lemman I luve nane.'

' Robin, I stand in sic a styll,

I sicht and that full sair.' ' Makyn, I haif been here this quhyle;

At hame God gif I weir.' 'My huny, Robin, talk ane quhyll

Gif thow will do na main' 'Makyn, sum uthir man begyle,

For hamewart I will fair.'

Robin on his wayis went

As light as leif of tre ; Makyn murnit in hir intent,

And trowd him nevir to se. Robin brayd attour the bent:

Then Makyn cryit on hie, 'Now may thow sing, for I am schent!

Quhat alis lufe at me?'

Makyn went hame withowttin fail,

Full wery eftir cowth weip; Then Robin in a ful fair daill

Assemblit all his scheip. Be that sum part of Makynis aill

Out-throw his hairt cowd creip; He fallowit hir fast thair till assaill,

And till her tuke gude keip.

drest] beset. lemman] mistress. sicht] sigh. in hir

Intent] m her inward thought. brayd] strode. bentl coarse

fhaT rn?t] deStr°}'ed- alis] ails> te thatl b* the Um< that till] to. tuke keip] paid attention.

if

ROBERT HENRYSON

'Abyd, abyd, thow fair Makyne,

A word for ony thing ; For all my luve, it sail be thyne,

Withowttin departing. All haill thy hairt for till haif myne

Is all my cuvating ; My scheip to-morn, quhyle houris nyne,

Will neid of no keping.'

' Robin, thow hes hard soung and say,

In gestis and storeis auld, The man that will nocht quhen he may

Sail haif nocht quhen he wald. I pray to Jesu every day,

Mot eik thair cairis cauld That first preissis with thee to play

Be firth, forrest, or fauld.'

4 Makyn, the nicht is soft and dry,

The weddir is warme and fair, And the grene woid rycht neir us by

To walk attour all quhair: Thair ma na janglour us espy,

That is to lufe contrair ; Thairin, Makyne, baith ye and I,

Unsene we ma repair.'

4 Robin, that warld is all away, And quyt brocht till ane end :

And nevir agane thereto, perfay, Sail it be as thow wend ;

hard] heard. gestis] romances. mot eik] may add to

be] by. janglour] talebearer. wend] weened.

ROBERT HENRYSON

For of my pane thow maid it play ;

And all in vane I spend: As thow hes done, sa sail I say,

"Murne on; I think to mend.'"

' Makyn, the howp of all my heill,

My hairt on thee is sett ; And evirmair to thee be leill

Quhill I may leif but lett ; Never to faill as utheris feill,

Quhat grace that evir I gett.' ' Robin, with thee I will nocht deill ;

Adieu 1 for thus we mett.'

Makyn went han e blyth anneuche

Attour the hoktis hair ; Robin murnit, and Makyn leuche;

Scho sang, he sichit sair : And so left him baith wo and wreuch,

In dolour and in cair, Kepand his hird under a huche

Amangis the holds hair.

17. The Bludy Serb

T^HIS hinder yeir I hard be tald

Thair was a worthy King ; Dukis, Erlis and Barronis bald, He had at his bidding.

16. howp] hope. but lett] without hindrance. anneuche]

enough. holds hair] grey woodlands. leuche] laughed,

wreuch] peevish. huche] heuch, cliff.

77. hinder yeir] last year.

ROBERT HENRYSON

The Lord was ancean and aid,

And sexty yeiris cowth ring ; He had a dochter fair to fald,

A lusty Lady ying.

Off all fairheid scho bur the flour,

And eik hir faderis air; Off lusty laitis and he honour,

Meik, hot and debonair : Scho wynnit in a bigly bour,

On fold wes nane so fair, Princis luvit hir paramour

In cuntreis our allquhair.

Thair dwelt a lyt besyde the King

A foull Gyand of ane; Stollin he has the Lady ying,

Away with hir is gane, And kest her in his dungering

Quhair licht scho micht se nane ; Hungir and cauld and grit thristing

Scho fand into hir waine.

He wes the laithliest on to luk That on the grund mycht gang :

His nailis wes lyk ane hellis cruk, Thairwith fyve quarteris lang ;

ring] reign. fald] enfold. ying] young. fairheid] beanty. air] heir. laitis] manners. scho wynnit] she dwelt. bigly] well-built. fold] earth. paramour] lovingly. our allquhair] all the world over. a lyt besyde] a little, (i.e. close) beside. of ane] as any. kest] cast. dungering] dungeon. into hir waine] in her lodging. hellis cruk] hell-claw.

ROBERT HENRYSON

Thair wes nane that he ouituk,

In rycht or yit in wrang, Bot all in schondir he thame schuk,

The Gyand wes so strang.

He held the Lady day and nycht

Within his deep dungeoun, He wald nocht gif of hir a sicht

For gold nor yit ransoun — Bot gif the King mycht get a knycht,

To fecht with his persoun, To fecht with him beth day and nycht,

Quhill ane wer dungin doun.

The King gait seik baith fer and neir,

Beth be se and land, Off ony knycht gif he mycht heir

Wald fecht with that Gyand: A worthy Prince, that had no peir,

Hes tane the deid on hand For the luve of the Lady cleir,

And held full trew cunnand.

That Prince come prowdly to the toun

Of that Gyand to heir, And fawcht with him, his awin persoun,

And tuke him presoneir, And kest him in his awin dungeoun

Allane withouten feir, With hungir, cauld, and confusioun,

As full weill worthy weir.

quhill] until. dungin doun] beaten down. his awin persoun] himself. withouten feir] without companion.

ROBERT HENRYSON

Syne brak the hour, had hame the biicht

Unto her fadir he. Sa evill wondit wes the Knycht

That he behuvit to de ; Unlusam was his likame dicht,

His sark was all bludy ; In all the world was thair a wicht,

So peteouss for to se ?

The Lady murnyt and maid grit mane,

With all her mekill mycht — ' I luvit nevir lufe bot ane,

That dulfully now is dicht; God sen my lyfe were fra me tane

Or I had seen yone sicht, Or ellis in begging evir to gane

Furth with yone curtass knycht.'

He said ' Fair lady, now mone I

De trestly ye me trow, Take ye my serk that is bludy

And hing it forrow yow, First think on it and syne on me

Quhen men cumis yow to wow.' The Lady said ' Be Mary fie,

Thaiito I mak a vow.'

Quhen that scho lukit to the sark

Scho thocht on the persoun, And prayit for him with all hir hart

That lowsit hir of bandoun,

the bricht] the fair one. likame] body. lowsit fair of

bandoun] loosed her from thraldom.

ROBERT HENRYSON

Quhair scho wes wont to sit full merk

Into that deip dungeoun ; And evir quhill scho wes in quert,

That wess hir a lessoun.

Sa weill the Lady luvit the Knycht

That no man wald scho tak : Sa suld we do our God of micht

That did all for us mak ; Quhilk fullily to deid was dicht,

For sinfull manis sak, Sa suld we do beth day and nycht,

With prayaris to him mak.

This King is lyk the Trinite,

Baith in hevin and heir ; The manis saule to the Lady,

The Gyand to Lucefeir, The Knycht to Chryst, that deit on tre

And coft our synnis deir; The pit to Hele with panis fell,

The Syn to the wo weir.

The Lady was wowd, but scho said nay

With men that wald hir wed ; Sa suld we wryth all sin away

That in our breist is bred. I pray to Jesu Chryst verray,

For ws his blud that bled, To be our help on domisday

Quhair lawis ar straitly led.

quert] prison. coft] bought. straitly led] strictly carried oot

ROBERT HENRYSON

The saule is Godis dochtir deir,

And eik his handewerk, That was betray it with Lucefeir,

Quha sittis in hell full merk: Borrowit with Chrystis angell deir,

Hend men, will ye nocht herk ? And for his lufe that bocht us deir

Think on the BLUDY SERK!

WILLIAM DUNBAR

18. To a Lafy ,465- .5»J

CWEET rois of vertew and of gentilness, ^ Delytsum lily of everie lustynes,

Richest in bontie and in bewtie clear, And everie vertew that is wenit dear. Except onlie that ye are mercyless.

Into your garth this day I did persew;

There saw I fiowris that fresche were of hew;

Baith quhyte and reid most lusty were to seyne, And halesome herbis upon stalkis greene;

Yet leaf nor flowr find could I nane of rew.

I doubt that Merche, with his cauld blastis keyne, Has slain this gentil herb, that I of mene;

Quhois piteous death dois to my heart sic paine That I would make to plant his root againe, — So confortand his levis unto me bene.

77. hend] gentle. 18. rois] rose. wenit] weened, esteemed,

garth] garden-close. to seyne] to see. that I of mene]

that I complain of, mourn for.

WILLIAM DUNBAR /p. In Honour of the City of London

T ONDON, thou art of townes A per se. Soveraign of cities, seemliest in sight, Of high renoun, riches and royaltie ;

Of lordis, barons, and many a goodly knyght ;

Of most delectable lusty ladies bright; Of famous prelatis, in habitis clerical! ;

Of merchauntis full of substaunce and of myght: London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Gladdith anon, thou lusty Troy novaunt,

Citie that some tyme cleped was New Troy ;

In all the erth, imperiall as thou slant,

Pryncesse of townes, of pleasure and of joy, A richer restith under no Christen roy ;

For manly power, with craftis naturall,

Fourmeth none fairer sith the flode of Noy:

London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Gemme of all joy, jaspre of jocunditie,

Most myghty carbuncle of vertue and valour; Strong Troy h vigour and in strenuytie ;

Of royall cities rose and geraflour;

Empress of townes, exalt in honour ; In beawtie bcryng the crone imperiall ;

Swete paradise precelling in pleasure ; London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Above all ryvers thy Ryver hath renowne,

Whose beryall stremys, pleasaunt and preclare,

Under thy lusty wallys renneth down,

Where many a swan doth swymme with wyngis fair;

gladdith] rejoice. Troy novaunt] Troja nova or Trinovantum.

fourmeth] appeareth. geraflour] gillyflower.

WILLIAM DUNBAR

Where many a barge doth saile and row with are ; Where many a ship doth rest with top-royall.

O, towne of townes ! patrone and not compare, London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Upon thy lusty Brigge of pylers white

Been merchauntis full royall to behold ; Upon thy stretis go'th many a semely knyght

In velvet gownes and in cheynes of gold.

By Julyus Cesar thy Tour founded of old May be the hous of Mars victoryall,

Whose artillary with tonge may not be told : London, thou