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5. Ane dyor
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133

5. Ane dyor

[Evin as the dying swayne]

Evin as the dying swayne
almost bereft of breath
Sound's dulefull songes and dririe not's,
a presage of her deat,
Sua since my date of lyfe
almost expyr'd I find
My obsequeis I sadlie sing
as sorrow toounes my mynd.
And as the rairest bird
ane pyle of woode doeth frame,
Quhich being fyred by phebus rayes
sche falls into ye flame,
So by tuo sunnye eyes
I giue my fanncies fyre
And burne my self with bewties rayes
evin by my awin desyre.
Thus the angree gods at lenth
begin for to relent,
And anes to end my dathefull lyfe
for pietie are content.
For giue th'infernall poweris
the dampned saulls wold pyne,
Thenn let them send them to the light
to leid a lyfe lyke myne.
O giue I could receave
the crosses and the cairs
That from my cradle to my bear's
conduct me wt despair's,
Then hungrie tantalus
pleas'd with his lote wald stand,
I famishe for ane sweeter foode
quhilk still rest's in my hand.
Lyke Ixiones restles wheelle
my fancies rule about,

134

And Lyke a gwest that stolle heavins fyres
they tare my bowells out.
I worke ane endles taske
and lois my labour still,
Evin as the bloodye sisteris doe
that emptie as they fill.
As siciphus stone returnes
his guiltie ghoist to appaill,
I euer rais my hoip sua heiche
they bruse me wt there fall.
And giue I could in sume
my seuerall greefes relate,
All wold forget there proper harmes
and onlye waill my state.
So greivous is my paine,
so panefull is my greef,
That death whiche doeth the world affright
wold ȝeild me to releef.
I haue mishaps sua lang
as in ane habite hade,
I think I luik not lyke my self
but whenn that I am sade.
As bird's that flee but in the aire,
fishes in sea doe diue,
Sua sorrow's lyke an element
by which I onlie liue.
Ȝit this may be admired
as more then strange in me,
Althot in all my horoscope
not one poȝnt cleir I see.
Aganest my knowledge ȝit
I manye a tyme rebell,
And seek to gadder groundis of hoip
ane hevin amids a hell.
O poysonne of the mynde
that doeth the wittes bereave

135

And schrew'd it with ane cloake of loue
does all ye world deceave,
Thow arte the rock on whiche
my comfoirtes schip didst dashe,
It's thow that daylie in my woundes
thy hookit heids does washe.
Blind tyrante is, o thow
by whome my hoip's lye deid,
That whylls thraws furth a dert of gold,
and whils a lumpe of leid.
Thus oft thow woundes to,
but in tuo differente states,
Quhich treuth a strange antipathie,
one loues the vther heats.
O but I ere I graunte,
I sould noucht the vpbraid,
It's I to passiones tyrannie
that haue my self betraȝed
And ȝit this cannoucht be,
my iudgement aymes amiss,
Ohe deere aurora it is thow
that ruyn'd hes my bliss,
Ane fault that by thy sex
maȝ pairtlie be excuised,
Quhich still does lois quhat profer'd is
affect's quhat is refuised.
Quhills my distracted thoucht's
I stryu'd for to controill,
And with fain'd gestures did disguyis
the anguishe of my soull,
Thenn with inveiting lookes
and accent's stampt wt loue
The mask that was vpoun my mynde
thow labourst to remove.
And whenn that once ensnair'd
thow in thois net's me spy'de,

136

Thy smylles were shaddowit wt disdaines,
thy bewties clothed wt pryde.
To reateane thy grace
I wate noucht how to goe,
Sall I once fall befoir the feete
to pleid for favour soe?
No, no, I'le proudlie go,
my wraith for to asswage
And liberallie at last enlardge
ye raines vnto my rage.
I'le tell what wee were ones
our chast (ȝit fervent) loue,
Quhill in effect thow seam'd to affect
ye which thow didst disprove,
Quhill once to ingrave thy name
vpoun a rocke I sate,
Thow vowed to wryte myne in a mynde
more firme by fare then yt.
The marble stane then stampt
reteanes that name of thyne,
But, ah, thy moir then marble mynde
it did not sua with myne.
Sua that whiche thrallt me first
sall set me free againe,
Thois flames to which thy loue gave lyfe
sall die with thy disdane.
But ahe quhere am I now?
how is my iudgement lost?
I speik as it were in my power
lyke ane that's free to boast.
Haue I evin sauld my self
to be thy bewties slaue,
And quhen thow taks all hoip fra me,
thow taks but quhat yow gave.
That former loue of thyne
did sua posses my mynde,
That for to harbour vther thotis,
na roume remaynes behinde.

137

The onlie meanes by which
I mynde to avenge this wrong,
It is by making of thy prais
the bourding of my song.
Thenn quhy sould thow suche spyte
for my good will returne,
Vas euer god as ȝit sua made
to make his temple burne?
My breast the temple was
quhence incens thow receaued,
And ȝit thow set's the same afyre
which vtheris wald have saued.
But why sould thow accuis
aurora in this gyise?
Shee's als fateles as schoe is fair,
als Innocent als wyse.
For it is but throuche my misluckt,
giue anye fault yer be,
For shee who was of nature mylde
was cruell made by me.
And since my fortoune is
In Woe to be bewrapptt,
I'le honour her as of befoir
and hate my awin mishaptt.
Her rigourous cours sall serue
my loyell pairt to prove
And as ane tuichstone for to trye
ye vertew of my love,
Quhich whenn her bewtie fades
salbe als cleir as now,
My constancie it salbe knowne
when wrinckled is her brow,
Sua that suche tua againe
sall in no age be founde,
Shee for her face, I for my fayth,
boith worthie to be croun'd.