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The Poems of James VI. of Scotland

Edited by James Craigie
(1566-1625)

expand sectionI. 
VOL. I. (THE ESSAYES OF A PRENTISE AND POETICALL EXERCISES AT VACANT HOURES)
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VOL. II. (UNPUBLISHED AND UNCOLLECTED POEMS, GLOSSARY, INDEX)
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PSALMES OF HIS MATIE
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All the kings short poesis that ar not printed
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AMATORIA
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MISCELLANEA.
 13. 
[13] Ad hoc creaturæ destinatæ sunt, vt in eis glorificetur Creator
 14. 
14 A sonnet on Mr Pa. Adamsons paraphrase of Job
 15. 
15 A sonnet on Ticho Brahe
 16. 
16 A sonnet on Du Bartas
  
SONNET
 17. 
17 A Sonnet on Mr W. Fullers translation of Petrarchs triumphe of loue
 18. 
18 An Epitaphe on Sr Philip Sidney
  
Sonnet to the authoure.
  
IN PHILIPPI SIDNÆI interitum, Illustrissimi Scotorum Regis Carmen.
 19. 
19 An epitaphe on John Shaw
 20. 
20 Votum
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21 A Sonnet to Chanceller Maitlane:
 22. 
22 An epitaphe on Montgomrie
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23 A Sonnet on the moneth of May
 24. 
24 An ænigme of sleepe
expand section25. 
25 A sonnet when the King was surprised by the Earle Bothwell
 26. 
26 A Sonnet painting out the perfect Poët:
 27. 
27 A Sonnet to the reader prefixed to the treatise of the arte of poesie:
 28. 
28
 30. 
30 A Sonett: on Sr William Alexanders harshe vearses after the Inglishe fasone
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31 A Sonet against the could that was in January 1616
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32
 33. 
33 Vpon occasion of some great disorders in Scotland.
  
[In wandring wealth through bubbling brookes & bewes]
 34. 
34 An admonition to the Master poët to be warr of great bragging hereafter, lest he not onlie slander himselfe; bot also the whole professours of the art
 35. 
35 Ex Lucano libro quinto
 36. 
36 Song. the first verses that euer the King made.
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FRAGMENTA
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UNCOLLECTED POEMS
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DOUBTFUL POEMS

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109

24
An ænigme of sleepe

Life is my selfe, I keepe the life of all
Without my helpe all liuing things they die
Small, greate, poore, ritche, obeye vnto my call
Feirce lions, foules, and whaills into the sie
With meete and drinke the hungrie I supplie
Deade drunken als I quicken newe againe
Dearer to Kings, nor crownes and sceptours hie
Vnto the riche, nor all there wealth and gaine
I am not nyse, the poore I'le not disdaine
Poore wretches more then Kings may me command
Where I cumme in all senses man refraine
Softer nor silke, and sadder nor the sand
I hurte, I helpe, I slaye, and cuire the same
Sleepe, and aduise, and panse well what I am.
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