The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie :: :: University of Virginia Library

Ȝong tender plante! in spring tym of ȝour ȝeirs,
Quhais fame mot floorish fresh and never faid,
Clene polisht pearle! vnspottit as appeirs,
On vhom my Love is, if ȝe lyk it, laid;
Not that I grene ȝour honour to degraid,
Bot rather wald ȝour weilfair ay advance;
Ȝit I must say, as sooth men oft hes said:
Love maks the choyce, bot Fortun maks the cha[nce.]

177

Quhare Weirds will work, vha may withstand thair [will?]
Nane dou reduce the Destinies decreit;
Bot vhat they ordane, ather gude or ill,
Force is to suffer, ather sour or sueit.
Quhat they determe, no sentence can retreit;
Not as men wald, bot as they will, they vote.
Thoght some hold fortun for a fekles freit,
Luk as it lyks, I look bot for my lote.

Quhair I haif chosen I culd be content,
If that my luk war vhair I love to light.
If I come speid, I think my tyme weill spent;
And if I mis to mend it as I micht,
I can reteir vhan resone thinks it richt.
Thair is no match bot vhair tuo mutuall [meits;]
Men mettall tryis by sey, and not by slight;
For ȝe mon grant, all is not gold that gleits.

Some flours may shoot, suppose they haif no seed,
Als trees may floorish, and bring furth feu fruit.
Not that in ȝou sik doublenes I dreid,
Suppose ȝe seme to shift me vhen I suit.
I can forbeir, if once I get rebuit;
I will not bind, bot vhair I bound to byde.
At syndrie marks, if that ȝe shaip to shoot,
Ȝe may shoot short, or sometym far asyde.

Dreigh river marks, with hights and hidden houis,
Ar perrillous, and not as they appeir;
Beguyling bairnis that shoots with brissall bouis,
And dou not drau thair arrouis to thair eir.
Short butts ar better, vhair thair bouis may beir.
Far foullis hes ay fair fethers, sum will say:
Quhen ȝe haif lost, it is too lait to leir:
A turne in tyme is ay worth other tuay.

178

Tak tym in tyme, vhill tyme is to be tane,
Or ȝe may wish, and want it vhen ȝe wald:
Ȝe get no grippe agane, if it be gane;
Then, vhill ȝe haif it, best is for to hald.
Thoght ȝe be ȝong, ȝit once ȝe may be ald:
Tyd will not tarie; speid or it be spent.
To prophesie, I dar not be so bald,
Bot tyn ȝe tyme—perhaps ȝe may repent.

Houbeit ȝour beuty far on breid be blaune,
I thank my God I shame not of my shap;
If ȝe be guid, the better is ȝour auin,
And he that getis ȝou hes the better hap.
I wald not sik men in ȝour credit crap,
Quha heght ȝou fairer nor I feir ȝe find;
Thairfor, I wald ȝe lookit or ȝe lap,
And waver not, lyk widdercok in wind.

If ȝe be constant, I sall neuer change;
If ȝe be fickle, I am forc't to flitt;
If ȝe be stedfast, I sall not be strange;
If ȝe be wylie, I wald leirne a wit.
Ay as ȝe wse ȝou, I agrie with it.
Be doing on, I dout not ȝe ar wyse.
Baith heft and blead ar in ȝour hand, as ȝit;
Then barlacheis or barlachois advyse.

Can ȝe not play at “nevie nevie nak”?
A pretty play, whilk children often wse,
Quhair tentles bairnis may to their tinsall tak
The neiv with na thing, and the full refuse.
I will not skar ȝou, sen ȝe mynd to chuse,
Bot put ȝour hand by haȝard in the creill;
Ȝit men hes mater vharvpon to muse,
For they must drau ane adder or ane eill.

179

Thoght ȝe be, as I mon confes ȝou, fair,
I wald not wish that fra ȝour friends ȝe r[an.]
Houbeit ȝe think me to ȝou no compair,
I haif the moyan, lyk ane other man.
I neid not waist it that my elders wan;
I hope to help it, if I had my helth.
Gar ȝe me gang from ȝou, whair I began,
If I wald vant, I wot of griter welth.

Ȝit I am not so covetous of kynd,
Bot I prefer my plesur in a pairt;
Thoght I be laich, I beir a michtie mynd;
I count me rich, can I content my hairt.
Ȝit, or I enter in ane other airt,
Ȝour vter ansueir courteously I crave,
Quhom ȝe will keep, or vhom ȝe will decairt:
Sa fair ȝe weill, vhill I the same resave.