 | The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie |  |
LXII. THE POETS APOLOGIE TO THE KIRK OF EDINBURGH.
I wonder of ȝour Wisdomes, that ar wyse,That baith miskennis my method and my Muse;
Quhen I invey, such epithets I wse,
That evin Alecto laughing at me lyis.
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Nor ȝon couhorne, vhereof ȝe me accuse;
For fra the Fureis me with fyr infuse,
Quhom Bautie byts, he deir that bargan byis;
For if I open wp my anger anes,
To plunge my pen into that stinking Styx,
My tongue is lyk the lyons; vhair it liks,
It brings the flesh, lyk bryrie, fra the banes:
I think it scorne, besyd the skaith and sklander,
To euin an ape with aufull Alexander.
| The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie | |