The Works of Sir David Lindsay of the Mount :: :: University of Virginia Library

Mvsing And maruelling on the miserie
Frome day to day in erth quhilk dois incres,
And of ilk stait the instabilitie
Proceding of the restles besynes
Quhairon the most part doith thair mynd addres
Inordinatlie, on houngrye couatyce,
Uaine glore, dissait, and vthir sensuall vyce,

Bot tumlyng In my bed I mycht nocht lye,
Quhairfore I fuir furth, in ane Maye mornyng,
Conforte to gett of my malancolye,
Sumquhat affore fresche Phebus vperysing,
Quhare I mycht heir the birdis sweitlie syng.
Intyll ane park I past, for my plesure,
Decorit weill be craft of dame Nature.

Quhov I ressauit confort naturall
For tyll discryue at lenth it war to lang;
Smelling the holsum herbis medicinall,
Quhare on the dulce and balmy dew down dang,
Lyke aurient peirles on the twistis hang;
Or quhov that the Aromatik odouris
Did proceid frome the tender fragrant flouris;

Or quhov Phebus, that king etheriall,
Swyftlie sprang vp in to the orient,
Ascending in his throne Imperiall,
Quhose brycht and buriall bemes resplendent
Illumynit all on to the Occident,
Confortand euerye corporall creature
Quhilk formit war in erth be dame Nature;

Quhose donke impurpurit vestiment nocturnall,
With his imbroudit mantyll matutyne,
He lefte in tyll his regioun aurorall,
Quhilk on hym watit quhen he did declyne
Towarte his occident palyce vespertyne,
And rose in habyte gaye and glorious,
Brychtar nor gold or stonis precious.

203

Bot Synthea, the hornit nychtis quene,
Scho loste hir lycht, and lede ane lawar saill,
Frome tyme hir souerane lorde that scho had sene,
And in his presens waxit dirk and paill,
And ouer hir visage kest ane mistye vaill;
So did Uenus, the goddes amorous,
With Iupiter, Mars, and Mercurius.

Rychtso the auld Intoxicat Saturne,
Persauyng Phebus powir, his beymes brycht,
Abufe the erth than maid he no sudgeourne,
Bot suddandlye did lose his borrowit lycht,
Quhilk he durst neuir schaw bot on the nycht.
The Pole artick, wrsis, and sterris all
Quhilk situate ar in the Septemtrionall,

Tyll errand schyppis quhilks ar the souer gyde,
Conuoyand thame, vpone the stromye nycht,
Within thare frostie circle, did thame hyde.
Howbeit that sterris haue none vthir lycht
Bot the reflex of Phebus bemes brycht,
That day durst none in to the heuin appeir,
Tyll he had circuit all our Hemispeir.

Me thocht it was ane sycht celestiall,
To sene Phebus so angellyke ascend
In tyll his fyrie chariot tryumphall,
Quhose bewte brycht I culd nocht comprehend.
All warldlie cure anone did fro me wend,
Quhen fresche flora spred furth hir tapestrie,
Wrocht be dame Nature, quent, and curiouslie.

Depaynt with mony hundreth heuinlie hewis,
Glaid of the rysing of thare royall Roye,
With blomes breckand on the tender bewis;
Quhilk did prouoke myne hart tyl natural Ioye.
Neptune, that day, and Eoll held thame coye,
That men on far mycht heir the birdis sounde,
Quhose noyis did to the sterrye heuin redounde;

204

The plesand Powne, prunȝeand his feddrem fair;
The myrthfull Maues maid gret melodie;
The lustye Lark ascending in the air,
Numerand hir naturall notis craftelye;
The gay Goldspink; the Merll rycht myrralye.
The noyis of the nobyll Nychtingalis
Redundit throuch the montans, meids, and valis.

Contempling this melodious armonye,
Quhov euerilke bird drest thame for tyl aduance,
To saluss Nature with thare melodye,
That I stude gasing, halflingis in ane trance,
To heir thame mak thare naturall obseruance
So royallie that all the roches rang
Throuch repercussioun of thare suggurit sang.

I lose my tyme, allace, for to rehers
Sick vnfrutful and vaine discriptioun,
Or wrytt, in to my raggit rurall vers,
Mater without edificatioun;
Consydering quhov that myne intentioun
Bene tyll deplore the mortall misereis,
With continuall, cairfull calamiteis

Consisting in this wracheit vaill of sorrow.
Bot sad sentence sulde haue ane sad indyte,
So termes brycht I lyste nocht for to borrow.
Off murnyng mater men hes no delyte:
With roustye termes, tharefor, wyl I wryte,
With sorrowful seychis ascending frome the splene,
And bitter teris distellyng frome myne eine,

Withoute ony vaine inuocatioun
To Minerua or to Melpominee.
Nor ȝitt wyll I mak supplicatioun,
For help, to Cleo nor Caliopee:
Sick marde Musis may mak me no supplee.
Proserpyne I refuse, and Apollo,
And rycht so Ewterp, Iupiter, and Iuno,

205

Quhilkis bene to plesand Poetis conforting.
Quharefor, because I am nocht one of tho,
I do desyre of thame no supporting.
For I did neuer sleip on Pernaso,
As did the Poetis of lang tyme ago,
And, speciallie, the ornate Ennius;
Nor drank I neuer, with Hysiodus,

Off Grece the perfyte poet souerane,
Off Hylicon, the sors of Eloquence,
Off that mellifluus, famous, fresche fontane:
Quharefor I awe to thame no reuerence.
I purpose nocht to mak obedience
To sic mischeand Musis nor malmontrye
Afore tyme vsit in to poetrye.

Raueand Rhammusia, goddes of dispyte,
Mycht be to me ane Muse rycht conuenabyll,
Gyff I desyrit sic help for tyll indyte
This murnyng mater, mad and miserabyll.
I mon go seik ane muse more confortabyl,
And sic vaine superstitioun to refuse,
Beseikand the gret God to be my muse,

Be quhose wysdome al maner of thing bene wrocht,

Genes. i.

The heych heuinnis, with all thair ornamentis,
And without mater maid all thing of nocht,
Hell in myd Centir of the Elementis.
That heuinlye Muse to seik my hole intent is,

iii. Re. iii.

The quhilk gaif sapience to king Salomone,

Psalme. lxxxix.

To Dauid grace, strenth to the strang Sampsone,

Iuges xiii.

And of pure Peter maid ane prudent precheour,

Mat. iiii.

And, be the power of his deitee,
Off creuell Paule he maid ane cunnyng techeour.

Actis. ix.

I mon beseik, rycht lawly on my knee,
His heych superexcellent Maiestie,
That with his heuinlye spreit he me inspyre
To wrytt no thyng contrarye his disyre.

206

Luc. i.

Beseikand als his Souerane Sonne, Iesu,
Quhilk wes consauit be the holy spreit,
Incarnat of the purifyit Uirgin trev,
In to the quhome the Prophicie was compleit,
That Prince of peace, moist humyll & mansweit,

Luc. xxiii.

Quhilk onder Pylate sufferit passioun,
Upone the Croce, for our saluatioun.

And be that creuell deith intollerabyll
Lowsit we wer frome bandis of Balyall;
And, mairattouir, it wes so proffitabyll
That to this hour come neuir man, nor sall,
To the tryumphant ioye Imperiall

Hebr. ix.

Off lyfe, quhowbeit that thay war neuer sa gude,
Bot be the vertew of that precious blude.

Quharefor, in steid of the mont Pernaso,
Swyftlie I sall go seik my Souerane.
To Mont Caluare the straucht waye mon I go,
To gett ane taist of that moist fresche fontane.
That sors to seik my hart may nocht refrane,
Off Hylicone, quhilk wes boith deip and wyde,

Iho. xix.

That Longeous did graue in tyll his syde.

From that fresche fontane sprang a famous flude,
Quhilk redolent Reuer throuch the warld ȝit rynnis,
As christall cleir, and mixit bene with blude;
Quhose sound abufe the heyest heuinnis dinnis,
All faithfull peple purgeing frome thare synnis.
Quharefor I sall beseik his Excellence
To grant me grace, wysedome, and Eloquence,

And bayth me with those dulce & balmy strandis
Quhilk on the Croce did spedalie out spryng,
Frome his moste tender feit and heuinly handis,
And grant me grace to wrytt nor dyte no thyng
Bot tyll his heych honour and loude louyng;
But quhose support thare may na gud be wrocht
Tyll his plesure, gude workis, word, nor thocht.

207

Tharefor, O Lorde, I pray thy Maiestie,
As thov did schaw thy heych power Diuyne
First planelie in the Cane of Galelee,
Quhare thov conuertit cauld watter in wyne,

Ihon. ii.

Conuoye my mater tyll ane fructuous fyne,
And saue my sayingis baith frome schame and syn.
Tak tent: for now I purpose to begyn.

FINIS. HEIR ENDIS THE PROLOGE, AND BEGINNIS THE MATER.