Bulchevy's Book of English Verse Part 4

I pray to Jesu Chryst verray, For ws his blud that bled, To be our help on domisday Quhair lawis ar straitly led.

The saule is G.o.dis dochtir deir, And eik his handewerk, That was betrayit with Lucefeir, Quha sittis in h.e.l.l full merk: Borrowit with Chrystis angell cleir, Hend men, will ye nocht herk?

And for his lufe that bocht us deir Think on the BLUDY SERK!

hinder yeir] last year. ring] reign. fald] enfold. ying]

young. fairheid] beauty. air] heir. laitis] manners. bot and]

and also. 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. h.e.l.lis cruk] h.e.l.l-claw. quhill] until. dungin doun] beaten down. his awin persoun] himself. withouten feir] without companion. the bricht] the fair one. likame] body. lowsit hir of bandoun] loosed her from thraldom. quert] prison. coft] bought. straitly led]

strictly carried out. hend] gentle.

William Dunbar. 1465-1520?

18. To a Lady

SWEET rois of vertew and of gentilness, Delytsum lily of everie l.u.s.tynes, 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 flowris that fresche were of hew; Baith quhyte and reid most l.u.s.ty 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.

rois] rose. wenit] weened, esteemed. garth] garden-close. to seyne] to see. that I of mene] that I complain of, mourn for.

William Dunbar. 1465-1520?

19. In Honour of the City of London

LONDON, 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 l.u.s.ty ladies bright; Of famous prelatis, in habitis clericall; Of merchauntis full of substaunce and of myght: London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Gladdith anon, thou l.u.s.ty Troynovaunt, Citie that some tyme cleped was New Troy; In all the erth, imperiall as thou stant, Pryncesse of townes, of pleasure and of joy, A richer rest.i.th 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, jasper of jocunditie, Most myghty carbuncle of vertue and valour; Strong Troy in vigour and in strenuytie; Of royall cities rose and geraflour; Empress of townes, exalt in honour; In beawtie beryng 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 l.u.s.ty wallys renneth down, Where many a swan doth swymme with wyngis fair; Where many a barge doth saile and row with are; Where many a s.h.i.+p doth rest with top-royall.

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

Upon thy l.u.s.ty Brigge of pylers white Been merchauntis full royall to behold; Upon thy stretis goeth 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 art the flour of Cities all.

Strong be thy wallis that about thee standis; Wise be the people that within thee dwellis; Fresh is thy ryver with his l.u.s.ty strandis; Blith be thy chirches, wele sownyng be thy bellis; Rich be thy merchauntis in substaunce that excellis; Fair be their wives, right lovesom, white and small; Clere be thy virgyns, l.u.s.ty under kellis: London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

Thy famous Maire, by pryncely governaunce, With sword of justice thee ruleth prudently.

No Lord of Parys, Venyce, or Floraunce In dignitye or honour goeth to hym nigh.

He is exampler, loode-ster, and guye; Princ.i.p.all patrone and rose orygynalle, Above all Maires as maister most worthy: London, thou art the flour of Cities all.

gladdith] rejoice. Troynovaunt] Troja nova or Trinovantum. fourmeth] appeareth. geraflour] gillyflower. are]

oar. small] slender. kellis] hoods, head-dresses. guye] guide.

William Dunbar. 1465-1520?

20. On the Nativity of Christ

RORATE coeli desuper!

Hevins, distil your balmy schouris!

For now is risen the bricht day-ster, Fro the rose Mary, flour of flouris: The cleir Sone, quhom no cloud devouris, Surmounting Phebus in the Est, Is c.u.min of his hevinly touris: Et n.o.bis Puer natus est.

Archangellis, angellis, and dompnationis, Tronis, potestatis, and marteiris seir, And all ye hevinly operationis, Ster, planeit, firmament, and spheir, Fire, erd, air, and water cleir, To Him gife loving, most and lest, That come in to so meik maneir; Et n.o.bis Puer natus est.

Synnaris be glad, and penance do, And thank your Maker hairtfully; For he that ye micht nocht come to To you is c.u.min full humbly Your soulis with his blood to buy And loose you of the fiendis arrest-- And only of his own mercy; Pro n.o.bis Puer natus est.

All clergy do to him inclyne, And bow unto that bairn benyng, And do your observance divyne To him that is of kingis King: Encense his altar, read and sing In holy kirk, with mind degest, Him honouring attour all thing Qui n.o.bis Puer natus est.

Celestial foulis in the air, Sing with your nottis upon hicht, In firthis and in forrestis fair Be myrthful now at all your mycht; For pa.s.sit is your dully nicht, Aurora has the cloudis perst, The Sone is risen with glaidsum licht, Et n.o.bis Puer natus est.

Now spring up flouris fra the rute, Revert you upward naturaly, In honour of the blissit frute That raiss up fro the rose Mary; Lay out your levis l.u.s.tily, Fro deid take life now at the lest In wirschip of that Prince worthy Qui n.o.bis Puer natus est.

Sing, hevin imperial, most of hicht!

Regions of air mak armony!

All fish in flud and fowl of flicht Be mirthful and mak melody!

All Gloria in excelsis cry!

Heaven, erd, se, man, bird, and best,-- He that is crownit abone the sky Pro n.o.bis Puer natus est!

schouris] showers. c.u.min] come, entered. seir] various. erd]

earth. lest] least. synnaris] sinners. benyng] benign. attour]

over, above. perst] pierced. raiss] rose. best] beast.

William Dunbar. 1465-1520?

21. Lament for the Makers

I THAT in heill was and gladness Am trublit now with great sickness And feblit with infirmitie:-- Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Our plesance here is all vain glory, This fals world is but transitory, The flesh is bruckle, the Feynd is slee:-- Timor Mortis conturbat me.

The state of man does change and vary, Now sound, now sick, now blyth, now sary, Now dansand mirry, now like to die:-- Timor Mortis conturbat me.

No state in Erd here standis sicker; As with the wynd wavis the wicker So wannis this world's vanitie:-- Timor Mortis conturbat me.

Unto the Death gois all Estatis, Princis, Prelatis, and Potestatis, Baith rich and poor of all degree:-- Timor Mortis conturbat me.

He takis the knichtis in to the field Enarmit under helm and scheild; Victor he is at all mellie:-- Timor Mortis conturbat me.

That strong unmerciful tyrand Takis, on the motheris breast sowkand, The babe full of benignitie:-- Timor Mortis conturbat me.