The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie Edited by James Cranstoun |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. | XXXV.
[IN PRAIS OF HIS MAISTRES.] |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
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 | The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie |  |
183
XXXV. [IN PRAIS OF HIS MAISTRES.]
Quhy bene ȝe, Musis, all so long
On sleep this mony a day?
Let not ȝour harmony and song
In silence thus decay.
Distill by influence
Ȝour stremis of eloquence,
That, throu ȝour heuinlie liquor sueit,
My pen in rhetoric may fleit,
For till expres
The comlines
Of my Maistres,
With joy repleit.
On sleep this mony a day?
Let not ȝour harmony and song
In silence thus decay.
Distill by influence
Ȝour stremis of eloquence,
That, throu ȝour heuinlie liquor sueit,
My pen in rhetoric may fleit,
For till expres
The comlines
Of my Maistres,
With joy repleit.
To kythe hir cunning, Natur wald
Indeu hir with sik grace,
My spreit rejosis to behald
Her smyling angels face,
Lyk Phœbus in the south,
To skorne the rest of ȝouth.
Hir curling loks, lyk golden rings,
About hir hevinly haffats hings,
Quhilks do decore
Hir body more,
Quhom I adore
Above all things.
Indeu hir with sik grace,
My spreit rejosis to behald
Her smyling angels face,
Lyk Phœbus in the south,
To skorne the rest of ȝouth.
Hir curling loks, lyk golden rings,
About hir hevinly haffats hings,
Quhilks do decore
Hir body more,
Quhom I adore
Above all things.
Hir brouis ar brent: lyk golden threeds
Hir siluer shyning brees.
The bony blinks my courage feeds
Of hir tua christall ees,
Tuinkling illuminous,
With beamis amourous;
Quhairin tua naikit boyis resorts,
Quhais countenance good hope reports;
For they appeir
Vith smyling cheir,
As they wald speir
At me some sports.
Hir siluer shyning brees.
The bony blinks my courage feeds
Of hir tua christall ees,
Tuinkling illuminous,
With beamis amourous;
184
Quhais countenance good hope reports;
For they appeir
Vith smyling cheir,
As they wald speir
At me some sports.
Hir comelie cheeks of vive colour,
Of rid and vhyt ymixt,
Ar lyk the sanguene jonet flour
Into the lillie fixt.
Hir mouth mellifluous,
Hir breathing savorous,
Hir rosie lippis most eminent,
Hir teeth lyk pearle of orient,
Hir halse more vhyt
Nor I can wryt;
With that perfyt
And sapient.
Of rid and vhyt ymixt,
Ar lyk the sanguene jonet flour
Into the lillie fixt.
Hir mouth mellifluous,
Hir breathing savorous,
Hir rosie lippis most eminent,
Hir teeth lyk pearle of orient,
Hir halse more vhyt
Nor I can wryt;
With that perfyt
And sapient.
Hir vestall breist of ivorie,
Quhairon ar fixit fast
Tua tuins of clene virginitie,
Lyk boullis of alabast.
Out throu hir snauie skin,
Maist cleirlie kythes within
Hir saphir veins, lyk threids of silk,
Or violets in vhytest milk.
If Natur sheu
Hir hevinly heu
In vhyt and bleu—
It wes that ilk.
Quhairon ar fixit fast
Tua tuins of clene virginitie,
Lyk boullis of alabast.
Out throu hir snauie skin,
Maist cleirlie kythes within
Hir saphir veins, lyk threids of silk,
Or violets in vhytest milk.
If Natur sheu
Hir hevinly heu
In vhyt and bleu—
It wes that ilk.
Hir armes ar long, hir shulders braid,
Hir middill gent and small:
The mold is lost, vharin wes maid
This A per se of all.
The gods ar in debait
Concerning hir estait;
Diana keeps this Margarit,
Bot Hymen heghts to match hir meit:
Deserve let sie
Amount from thrie.
Go merie she,
That is so sueet.
Hir middill gent and small:
The mold is lost, vharin wes maid
This A per se of all.
185
Concerning hir estait;
Diana keeps this Margarit,
Bot Hymen heghts to match hir meit:
Deserve let sie
Amount from thrie.
Go merie she,
That is so sueet.
Quhat can both shoot and open loks
As can the only kie?
Persaiv this pithie paradox,
And mark it weill in me.
Quhais beutie hes me burt?
Quhais beutie healls my hurt?
Quhais beutie blythnes me bereivis?
Quhais beutie gladnes to me givis?
Quhais beutie, lo,
Does me vndo?
Quhais beutie, to,
My spreit revivis?
As can the only kie?
Persaiv this pithie paradox,
And mark it weill in me.
Quhais beutie hes me burt?
Quhais beutie healls my hurt?
Quhais beutie blythnes me bereivis?
Quhais beutie gladnes to me givis?
Quhais beutie, lo,
Does me vndo?
Quhais beutie, to,
My spreit revivis?
| The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie | |