The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie Edited by James Cranstoun |
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 | DEVOTIONAL POEMS. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
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 | The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie |  |
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DEVOTIONAL POEMS.
I. THE FIRST PSALME.
Weill is the man,Ȝea blissed than,
By grace that can
Esheu ill counsell and the godles gait;
That stands not in
The way of sin,
Nor does begin
To sitt with mockers in the scornefull sait;
Bot in Jehovahis lau
Delyts aricht,
And studies it to knaw,
Both day and nicht;
For he sall be
Lyk to the trie
Quhilk plantit by the running river grouis;
Quhilk frute does beir
In tym of ȝeir;
Quhais leaf sall never fade nor rute sall louis.
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Ay prosper sall,
Quhilk sall not fall
To godles men bot as the chaffe or sand,
Quhilk day by day
Winds dryvis away,
Thairfor I say
The wicked in the judgment sall not stand;
Nor sinners ryse na mair,
Vhom God disdanes,
In the assembly vhair
The just remanes.
For why? the Lord
Doth beir record;
He knauis the richteous conversation ay,
And godles gaits,
Quhilk he so haitis,
Sall doutles perish and decay aluay.
II. THE SECONDE PSALME.
Quhy doth the Heathin rage and rampe,
And peple murmur all in vane?
The kings on earth ar bandit plane,
And princes ar conjoinit in campe,
Aganst the Lord and Chryst ilk ane.
“Come let our hands
Brek all thair bands,”
Say they, “and cast from vs thair ȝoks.”
Bot he sall evin
That duells in hevin
Laugh thame to scorne, lyk mocking stoks.
And peple murmur all in vane?
The kings on earth ar bandit plane,
And princes ar conjoinit in campe,
Aganst the Lord and Chryst ilk ane.
“Come let our hands
Brek all thair bands,”
Say they, “and cast from vs thair ȝoks.”
Bot he sall evin
That duells in hevin
Laugh thame to scorne, lyk mocking stoks.
227
[In] wraith then sall he speik thame till,
And vex thame in his anger sore,
And say—“I set my King with glore
On Sion Mount, my holy hill.”
I will declair his will thairfoir;
That is, that he
Hes said to me,
“Thou art my Sone beloved ay,
From vhome my Love
Sall not remove;
I haif begotten thee this day.
And vex thame in his anger sore,
And say—“I set my King with glore
On Sion Mount, my holy hill.”
I will declair his will thairfoir;
That is, that he
Hes said to me,
“Thou art my Sone beloved ay,
From vhome my Love
Sall not remove;
I haif begotten thee this day.
Ask thou of me, and thou sall haive
The Heathin to enherit haill,
And all the earth thou sall not faill
For thy possessioun to resaive.
Thy princely scepter sall prevaill;
For they sall feill
It made of steill,
To render thame thair just reuaird;
Quhairvith thou sall
Evin bruis thame all
In peces, lyk a potters shaird.”
The Heathin to enherit haill,
And all the earth thou sall not faill
For thy possessioun to resaive.
Thy princely scepter sall prevaill;
For they sall feill
It made of steill,
To render thame thair just reuaird;
Quhairvith thou sall
Evin bruis thame all
In peces, lyk a potters shaird.”
Be wyse, thairfor, ȝe kingis, and heir.
Ȝe judges of the earth, I say,
Be leirned and instructit ay.
Rejoyce and serve the Lord in feir,
And kisse the Sone and him obey;
Leist, vhen his yre
Sall burne as fyre,
Ȝe perish in the way and fall.
And sik as trust
In God most just
Sall happy be and blissed all.
Ȝe judges of the earth, I say,
Be leirned and instructit ay.
Rejoyce and serve the Lord in feir,
And kisse the Sone and him obey;
Leist, vhen his yre
Sall burne as fyre,
Ȝe perish in the way and fall.
And sik as trust
In God most just
Sall happy be and blissed all.
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III. THE POETS DREME.
God give me grace for to begin
My spousing garment for to spin,
And to be one till enter in
With the brydgrome in blisse;
And sleep na mair in sleuth and sin,
Bot rather ryse and richtly rin
That hevinly wedfie for to win
Vhilk he prepairs for his.
My spousing garment for to spin,
And to be one till enter in
With the brydgrome in blisse;
And sleep na mair in sleuth and sin,
Bot rather ryse and richtly rin
That hevinly wedfie for to win
Vhilk he prepairs for his.
The way is strait, the nomber small;
Therfor we may not entir all:
Ȝit he hes said that sik men sall
Vhais faith brings furth gude frute.
My [saull,] then, fash not for a fall;
Contineu knocking; clim and call:
Thair is no winning ouer the wall
Fra ains the dur be shute.
Therfor we may not entir all:
Ȝit he hes said that sik men sall
Vhais faith brings furth gude frute.
My [saull,] then, fash not for a fall;
Contineu knocking; clim and call:
Thair is no winning ouer the wall
Fra ains the dur be shute.
Tak tym in tyme, or tym be tint,
To stryve with sin, and nevir stint;
And vhar thou may not, mak a mint,
Sa that thy faith be fast.
As raynie dropis do peirce the flint
Throu falling oft, and not throu dint;
Of hope if thou hold fast the hint,
Thou sall prevaill at last.
To stryve with sin, and nevir stint;
And vhar thou may not, mak a mint,
Sa that thy faith be fast.
As raynie dropis do peirce the flint
Throu falling oft, and not throu dint;
Of hope if thou hold fast the hint,
Thou sall prevaill at last.
Presume not, nor dispair to speid.
To lyf that leddir sall the leid,
Quhilk stude at godly Jacobs heid
Quhen he to dream wes drevin;
Quhairby the angels come and ȝeid
From hevin to earth, as thou may reid:
That is the only way indeid
To help the vp to hevin.
To lyf that leddir sall the leid,
Quhilk stude at godly Jacobs heid
Quhen he to dream wes drevin;
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From hevin to earth, as thou may reid:
That is the only way indeid
To help the vp to hevin.
Assure thy self, it is the sam
Vharby the godly fathers clam,
Vha war the heires of Abraham,
Beloved of the Lord.
If thou beleive into that Lamb
Vha said, “I am evin that I am,”
The Deuill dou nevir the condam;
Thy warand is the word.
Vharby the godly fathers clam,
Vha war the heires of Abraham,
Beloved of the Lord.
If thou beleive into that Lamb
Vha said, “I am evin that I am,”
The Deuill dou nevir the condam;
Thy warand is the word.
When he wes rent vpon the rude,
He boght belevers with his blude;
I mene the godly men and gude
Quha keepit his commands,
And by instinction vnderstude,
Thair saulls resaued his flesh for fude.
Then clim by Chryst, for, I conclude,
Thy help lyes in his hands.
He boght belevers with his blude;
I mene the godly men and gude
Quha keepit his commands,
And by instinction vnderstude,
Thair saulls resaued his flesh for fude.
Then clim by Chryst, for, I conclude,
Thy help lyes in his hands.
IV. A GODLY PRAYER.
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei:
I am not worthy to be cald thy chylde,
Vho stubburnely haif lookt so long astray,
Not lyk thy sone, bot lyk the prodigue wyld.
My sillie saull with sin is so defyld,
That Satan seeks to catch it as his pray.
God grant me grace that he may be begyld:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
I am not worthy to be cald thy chylde,
Vho stubburnely haif lookt so long astray,
Not lyk thy sone, bot lyk the prodigue wyld.
230
That Satan seeks to catch it as his pray.
God grant me grace that he may be begyld:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
I am abashd how I dar be sa bald
Befor thy godly presence to appeir,
Or haȝard anes the hevins to behald,
Vha am vnworthy that the earth suld beir.
Ȝit damne me noght vhom thou hes boght so deir;
Sed salvum me fac, dulcis Fili Dei,
For out of Luk this leson nou I leir,
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
Befor thy godly presence to appeir,
Or haȝard anes the hevins to behald,
Vha am vnworthy that the earth suld beir.
Ȝit damne me noght vhom thou hes boght so deir;
Sed salvum me fac, dulcis Fili Dei,
For out of Luk this leson nou I leir,
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
If thou, O Lord, with rigour woldst revenge,
Vhat flesh befor the faultles suld be fund?
Or vho is he vhois conscience can him clenge,
Bot by his birth to Satan he is bund?
Ȝit, of thy grace, thou took auay that grund,
And sent thy Sone our penalty to pay,
To saiv us from that hiddious hellish hund.
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
Vhat flesh befor the faultles suld be fund?
Or vho is he vhois conscience can him clenge,
Bot by his birth to Satan he is bund?
Ȝit, of thy grace, thou took auay that grund,
And sent thy Sone our penalty to pay,
To saiv us from that hiddious hellish hund.
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
I hope for mercy, thoght my sinnes be huge:
I grant my gylt, and grones to thee for grace.
Thoght I suld flie, vhair sall I find refuge?
In hevin, O Lord? thair is thy duelling place.
The erth, thy futstule; ȝea in helis, alace!
Doun with the dead; bot all must the obey.
Thairfor I cry, vhill I haif tyme and space,
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
I grant my gylt, and grones to thee for grace.
Thoght I suld flie, vhair sall I find refuge?
In hevin, O Lord? thair is thy duelling place.
The erth, thy futstule; ȝea in helis, alace!
Doun with the dead; bot all must the obey.
Thairfor I cry, vhill I haif tyme and space,
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
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O gratious God, my gyltines forgive,
In sinners death since thou does not delyte,
Bot rather that they suld convert and live,
As witnessis thy sacred holy wryte.
I pray the, then, thy promise to perfyte
In me; and I sall with the Psalmist say
To pen thy prais, and wondrous works indyte:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
In sinners death since thou does not delyte,
Bot rather that they suld convert and live,
As witnessis thy sacred holy wryte.
I pray the, then, thy promise to perfyte
In me; and I sall with the Psalmist say
To pen thy prais, and wondrous works indyte:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
Suppose I slyde, let me not sleep in sleuth,
In stinking sty with Satans sinfull swyn;
Bot make my tongue the trompet of thy treuth,
And lend my verse sik wings as ar divyne.
Sen thou hes grantit me so good ingyn
To loif the, Lord, in gallant style and gay,
Let me no moir so trim a talent tyne:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
In stinking sty with Satans sinfull swyn;
Bot make my tongue the trompet of thy treuth,
And lend my verse sik wings as ar divyne.
Sen thou hes grantit me so good ingyn
To loif the, Lord, in gallant style and gay,
Let me no moir so trim a talent tyne:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
Thy Spirit, my spirit to speik, with speed, inspyre.
Help, Holy Ghost! and be Montgomeries Muse;
Flie doun on me in forked tongues of fyre,
As thou did, on thy oune Apostills, vse;
And with thy fyre me fervently infuse
To laud the, Lord, and longer not delay.
My former folish fictiouns I refuse:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
Help, Holy Ghost! and be Montgomeries Muse;
Flie doun on me in forked tongues of fyre,
As thou did, on thy oune Apostills, vse;
And with thy fyre me fervently infuse
To laud the, Lord, and longer not delay.
My former folish fictiouns I refuse:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
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Stoup, stubborne stomock, that hes bene so stout;
Stoup, filthie flesh, and carioun of clay;
Stoup, hardint hairt, befor the Lord, and lout
Stoup, stoup in tyme, defer not day by day.
Thou knouis not weill vhen thou man pass away;
The Tempter, als, is bissie to betrey.
Confes thy sinnes, and shame not for to say,
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
Stoup, filthie flesh, and carioun of clay;
Stoup, hardint hairt, befor the Lord, and lout
Stoup, stoup in tyme, defer not day by day.
Thou knouis not weill vhen thou man pass away;
The Tempter, als, is bissie to betrey.
Confes thy sinnes, and shame not for to say,
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
To grit Jehovah let all glore be gevin,
Vha shupe my saul to his similitude;
And to his Sone, vhom he sent doun from hevin,
Vhen I wes lost, to buy me with his blude;
And to the Holy Ghost, my gyder gude,
Vho must confirme my faith to tak no fray.
In me cor mundum crea—I conclude:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
Vha shupe my saul to his similitude;
And to his Sone, vhom he sent doun from hevin,
Vhen I wes lost, to buy me with his blude;
And to the Holy Ghost, my gyder gude,
Vho must confirme my faith to tak no fray.
In me cor mundum crea—I conclude:
Peccavi Pater, miserere mei.
V. A WALKNING FROM SIN.
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
Since vnadwysment wraks or thou be war,
To call for grace betyms at God begin,
Befor thou folou on the flesh too far.
Throu vnadvertance, oh! hou mony ar
Involvit so vhill out they can not win?
Wald thou be clene? touch nather pick nor tar:
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
Since vnadwysment wraks or thou be war,
To call for grace betyms at God begin,
Befor thou folou on the flesh too far.
Throu vnadvertance, oh! hou mony ar
Involvit so vhill out they can not win?
Wald thou be clene? touch nather pick nor tar:
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
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As trees hes leafis, then florishis, syn fruit;
So thou hes thoghts, syn words, and actions last.
Thus, grie by grie, sin taks in the sik rute,
Infecting saull and body baith so fast,
To stay repentance till the tyme be past.
Then turne in tym and not so rekles rin,
Or thou thy self in condemnation cast.
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
So thou hes thoghts, syn words, and actions last.
Thus, grie by grie, sin taks in the sik rute,
Infecting saull and body baith so fast,
To stay repentance till the tyme be past.
Then turne in tym and not so rekles rin,
Or thou thy self in condemnation cast.
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
Or thou be sommound by vncerten death,
Count with thy conscience; knau if it be cle[ne.]
Defer not to the latter blast of breath,
Sen lait repentance seindle sure is sene.
Then thrau the wand in tyme vhill it is grene;
Sen tym is precious tak it or ȝe tuin.
Sen thou began, look bak vhat thou hes bene:
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
Count with thy conscience; knau if it be cle[ne.]
Defer not to the latter blast of breath,
Sen lait repentance seindle sure is sene.
Then thrau the wand in tyme vhill it is grene;
Sen tym is precious tak it or ȝe tuin.
Sen thou began, look bak vhat thou hes bene:
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
Sen death is debt, prepair thee for to pay;
Thou knauis not vhen thy Creditour will crave.
Remember death, and on that dreidfull day
Quhen as thy saull hir sentence sall resave,
Of endles pain or endles joy to haive,
The goatis ar many, thoght the lambis be thin:
Seek thy salvation; be not Satans slaive;
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
Thou knauis not vhen thy Creditour will crave.
Remember death, and on that dreidfull day
Quhen as thy saull hir sentence sall resave,
Of endles pain or endles joy to haive,
The goatis ar many, thoght the lambis be thin:
Seek thy salvation; be not Satans slaive;
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
Seik, knok, and ask in Faith, with Hope and Love,
And thou sall find, and enter, and obtene.
Obey his blissed bidding from above;
So thou sall purchess proffeit, to, betuene.
Inclyne thyn eiris, and open wp thy ene
To heir and sie; and comfort all thy kin.
Do good; repent; in tym to come abstene:
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
And thou sall find, and enter, and obtene.
Obey his blissed bidding from above;
So thou sall purchess proffeit, to, betuene.
Inclyne thyn eiris, and open wp thy ene
To heir and sie; and comfort all thy kin.
Do good; repent; in tym to come abstene:
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
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Thoght Natur force thee to commit offence,
Ȝit it is divelish daylie to delyte
Or perseveir in, onder this pretence,
That Chryst sall be compeld to mak the quyte:
As some will say, “Sen flesh is imperfyte,
God mon forgive, or think his court bot thin.”
These words ar vain—but warrand of the wryt:
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
Ȝit it is divelish daylie to delyte
Or perseveir in, onder this pretence,
That Chryst sall be compeld to mak the quyte:
As some will say, “Sen flesh is imperfyte,
God mon forgive, or think his court bot thin.”
These words ar vain—but warrand of the wryt:
Think on the end and thou sall seindle sin.
VI. A LESONE HOU TO LEIRNE TO DIE.
Be war, be war, leist it be war;
The dreidfull day drauis to the duris.
Exame ȝour selfis; sie vhat ȝe ar,
And spy hou Death comis at the spurris;
Whais sharpe seveirest summond sayis:
Without contineuing of dayis.
The dreidfull day drauis to the duris.
Exame ȝour selfis; sie vhat ȝe ar,
And spy hou Death comis at the spurris;
Whais sharpe seveirest summond sayis:
Without contineuing of dayis.
He keepis no dyet, day, nor table;
Bot vhen he calis thou mon compeir;
Euen vhen thou art vnmetest, able.
Then fruitles faith is fraught with feir;
That message so thy mynd dismayis:
Without contineuing of dayis.
Bot vhen he calis thou mon compeir;
Euen vhen thou art vnmetest, able.
Then fruitles faith is fraught with feir;
That message so thy mynd dismayis:
Without contineuing of dayis.
Quhen all thy sensis the forsaikis,
And thou persaivis no dome bot dead,
Then courage lyk a couart quaikis;
Vane hope dar not hold vp his head;
Thy sinfull saull astonisht stayis,
Bot no contineuing of dayis.
And thou persaivis no dome bot dead,
Then courage lyk a couart quaikis;
Vane hope dar not hold vp his head;
Thy sinfull saull astonisht stayis,
Bot no contineuing of dayis.
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Fra conscience brings furth his books,
Into thy stomok is a stryfe.
It is no laughter, vhen thou looks
Vpon the legend of thy lyfe;
Vharin ar writtin all thy wayis,
Without contineuing of dayis.
Into thy stomok is a stryfe.
It is no laughter, vhen thou looks
Vpon the legend of thy lyfe;
Vharin ar writtin all thy wayis,
Without contineuing of dayis.
That register may mak thee rad,
Reveiling both thy good and evill.
Thy saull sall sie, to mak hir sad,
Hir vgly enemie the Divill;
Quhilk all that lybel to hir layis,
Without contineuing of dayis.
Reveiling both thy good and evill.
Thy saull sall sie, to mak hir sad,
Hir vgly enemie the Divill;
Quhilk all that lybel to hir layis,
Without contineuing of dayis.
Fra sho haif gaȝed in that glasse,
Sho hes a gesse vhair sho suld gang.
Be sho provydit, or sho passe—
It's weill; if not—all will be wrang.
To lait for pardon then sho prayis,
Quhen no contineuing of dayis.
Sho hes a gesse vhair sho suld gang.
Be sho provydit, or sho passe—
It's weill; if not—all will be wrang.
To lait for pardon then sho prayis,
Quhen no contineuing of dayis.
A bitter battell sall sho byde
Betuixt quick hope and dead dispair,
Quhen sho sall trimble to be tryde,
Remembring on long Euermair;
Quhair peirles pain or plesur ay is
Without contineuing of dayis.
Betuixt quick hope and dead dispair,
Quhen sho sall trimble to be tryde,
Remembring on long Euermair;
Quhair peirles pain or plesur ay is
Without contineuing of dayis.
Thoght, word, and deid, all sall be weyde,
Befor thy lingring lyf disluge.
Vhat ferly, freind, thoght thou be fleyd
To go befor so grit a Judge,
Vhais feirfull face the wicked frayis,
Without contineuing of dayis?
Befor thy lingring lyf disluge.
Vhat ferly, freind, thoght thou be fleyd
To go befor so grit a Judge,
Vhais feirfull face the wicked frayis,
Without contineuing of dayis?
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Thy beutie, riches, wit, and strenth,
Quhilk God thee, to his glory, gaive,
Sall caus the cry, Alace! at lenth,
Quhen he thy checker compt sall craive;
Vho will allou the no delayis,
Nor ȝit contineuing of dayis.
Quhilk God thee, to his glory, gaive,
Sall caus the cry, Alace! at lenth,
Quhen he thy checker compt sall craive;
Vho will allou the no delayis,
Nor ȝit contineuing of dayis.
Thair thou, that in this warld wes wont
To griev thy God without regaird,
Sall be compeld to give account,
And as thou thoght resave rewaird
Of him vho presently repayis,
Without contineuing of dayis.
To griev thy God without regaird,
Sall be compeld to give account,
And as thou thoght resave rewaird
Of him vho presently repayis,
Without contineuing of dayis.
Then prayers, almesdeids, and tearis,
Vhilks ȝit to skorne ȝee skantly skar,
Sall mair availl than jaks and spearis,
For to debait thee at that bar
Quhair nane rebelis, bot all obeyis,
Without contineuing of dayis.
Vhilks ȝit to skorne ȝee skantly skar,
Sall mair availl than jaks and spearis,
For to debait thee at that bar
Quhair nane rebelis, bot all obeyis,
Without contineuing of dayis.
Quhen Justice halds the ballance evin,
Sho mettis no inshis with the ell.
The hevy saulis ar had to hevin;
The light, alace, ar hoyde to hell,
Quhair Belȝebub in burning brayis
In wter darknes vhair no day is.
Sho mettis no inshis with the ell.
The hevy saulis ar had to hevin;
The light, alace, ar hoyde to hell,
Quhair Belȝebub in burning brayis
In wter darknes vhair no day is.
Quhat wald thou give, if God wold grant
Thee longer licience for to leive?
Wald thou not sueir to be a sant,
And all thy goods for God's saik give;
Ȝea, and instruct all sik as strayis
Without contineuing of dayis?
Thee longer licience for to leive?
Wald thou not sueir to be a sant,
And all thy goods for God's saik give;
Ȝea, and instruct all sik as strayis
Without contineuing of dayis?
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Quhy art thou miserable, O Man?
Quhy pretermits thou tyme and place?
Quhy art thou ydler nou nor than?
Quhy speids thou not vhill thou hes space?
Quhy tyins thou tyme, that the betrayis?
Quhy dreeds thou not these duilfull dayis?
Quhy pretermits thou tyme and place?
Quhy art thou ydler nou nor than?
Quhy speids thou not vhill thou hes space?
Quhy tyins thou tyme, that the betrayis?
Quhy dreeds thou not these duilfull dayis?
Ȝit, hear vhill Chryst knokis at thy hairt,
And open it to let him in:
Or thou sall abill efteruard
Crave entrie vhair thou sall not win;
As the fyve folish virgins playis:
Then with the wyse redeme thy dayis.
And open it to let him in:
Or thou sall abill efteruard
Crave entrie vhair thou sall not win;
As the fyve folish virgins playis:
Then with the wyse redeme thy dayis.
VII. [AWAY! VANE WORLD.]
Auay! vane world, bewitcher of my hairt!
My sorouis shauis my sins maks me to smart;
Ȝit will I not dispair,
Bot to my God repair:
He has mercy ay,
Thairfor will I pray:
He hes mercy ay, and lovis me,
Thoght by his humbling hand he provis m[e.]
My sorouis shauis my sins maks me to smart;
Ȝit will I not dispair,
Bot to my God repair:
He has mercy ay,
Thairfor will I pray:
He hes mercy ay, and lovis me,
Thoght by his humbling hand he provis m[e.]
Auay, auay! too long thou hes me snaird;
I will not tyne more tyme: I am prepaird
Thy subtill slychts to flie,
Vhilks hes allured me.
Tho they sueitly smyle,
Smoothly they begyle:
Tho they sueitly smyle, I feir thame.
I find thame fals; I will forbeir thame.
I will not tyne more tyme: I am prepaird
Thy subtill slychts to flie,
Vhilks hes allured me.
Tho they sueitly smyle,
Smoothly they begyle:
Tho they sueitly smyle, I feir thame.
I find thame fals; I will forbeir thame.
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Once more, auay! shauis loth the world to le[ave:]
Bids oft adeu with it that holds me slave.
Loth am I to forgo
This sueet alluring fo:
Sen thy wayis ar vane,
Sall I the retane?
Sen thy wayis ar vane, I quyt thee;
Thy plesuris sall no more delyt me.
Bids oft adeu with it that holds me slave.
Loth am I to forgo
This sueet alluring fo:
Sen thy wayis ar vane,
Sall I the retane?
Sen thy wayis ar vane, I quyt thee;
Thy plesuris sall no more delyt me.
A thousand tymis auay!—Oh! stay no more.
Sueit Chryst, conduct, leist subtile sin devore.
Without thy helping hand
No man hes strenth to stand.
Tho I oft intend
All my wayis to mend—
Tho I oft intend, strength fails ay:
The sair assaults of sin prevailis ay.
Sueit Chryst, conduct, leist subtile sin devore.
Without thy helping hand
No man hes strenth to stand.
Tho I oft intend
All my wayis to mend—
Tho I oft intend, strength fails ay:
The sair assaults of sin prevailis ay.
Quhat sal I say? ar all my plesurs past?
Sall worldly lustis nou tak thair leiv at last?
Ȝea, Chryst, these earthly toyes
Sall turne in hevinly joyes.
Let the world be gone;
I'l love Chryst allone.
Let the world be gone—I cair not:
Chryst is my love alone—I feir not.
Sall worldly lustis nou tak thair leiv at last?
Ȝea, Chryst, these earthly toyes
Sall turne in hevinly joyes.
Let the world be gone;
I'l love Chryst allone.
Let the world be gone—I cair not:
Chryst is my love alone—I feir not.
VIII. [COME, MY CHILDRENE DERE, DRAU NEIR ME.]
Come, my Childrene dere, drau neir me,
To my Love vhen that I sing;
Mak ȝour ears and hairts to heir me,
For it is no eirthly thing,
Bot a love
Far above
Other loves all, I say,
Vhich is sure
To indure
Vhen as all things sall decay.
To my Love vhen that I sing;
Mak ȝour ears and hairts to heir me,
For it is no eirthly thing,
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Far above
Other loves all, I say,
Vhich is sure
To indure
Vhen as all things sall decay.
O my Lord and Love most loyal,
Vhat a prais does thou deserve!
Thoght thou be a Prince most Royal,
With thy Angels thee to serve,
Ȝit a pure
Creature
Thou hes lovit al thy lyfe;
Thou didst chuis
The refuis
Of the world to be thy wyfe.
Vhat a prais does thou deserve!
Thoght thou be a Prince most Royal,
With thy Angels thee to serve,
Ȝit a pure
Creature
Thou hes lovit al thy lyfe;
Thou didst chuis
The refuis
Of the world to be thy wyfe.
Whill I did behold the favor
Of his countenance so fair—
Whill I smellit the sueet savor
Of his garments rich and rair—
“Oh!” I said,
“If I had,
To my Love, ȝon Prince of Glore!
For my chose
Wold I lose
Other loves I lovd befor.”
Of his countenance so fair—
Whill I smellit the sueet savor
Of his garments rich and rair—
“Oh!” I said,
“If I had,
To my Love, ȝon Prince of Glore!
For my chose
Wold I lose
Other loves I lovd befor.”
Vhill I did these words besyd me,
With a secreit sigh, confes,
Lo! my Lord and Love espyd me,
And dreu neir me vhair I wes;
Then a ring
Did he thring
On my finger, that wes fyne:—
“Tak,” quod he,
“This to the,
For a pledge that I am thyne.
With a secreit sigh, confes,
Lo! my Lord and Love espyd me,
And dreu neir me vhair I wes;
Then a ring
Did he thring
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“Tak,” quod he,
“This to the,
For a pledge that I am thyne.
Nou thou hes that thou desyrit—
Me to be thy Lord and Love—
All the thing that thou requyrit,
To the heir, I do approve:
Ȝit agane,
For my pane,
Only this I crave of thee;
For my pairt,
Keep thy hairt
As a virgin chast to me.”
Me to be thy Lord and Love—
All the thing that thou requyrit,
To the heir, I do approve:
Ȝit agane,
For my pane,
Only this I crave of thee;
For my pairt,
Keep thy hairt
As a virgin chast to me.”
IX. HIS MORNING MUSE.
[NON TARDES CONVERTI AD DEUM.]
Let dread of pain for sin in aftertime,
Let shame to see thy self ensnared so,
Let grief conceived for foul accursed crime,
Let hate of sin, the worker of thy wo,
With dread, with shame, with grief, with hate, enforce
To dew thy cheeks with tears to deep remorse.
Let shame to see thy self ensnared so,
Let grief conceived for foul accursed crime,
Let hate of sin, the worker of thy wo,
With dread, with shame, with grief, with hate, enforce
To dew thy cheeks with tears to deep remorse.
So hate of sin shall make God's love to grow;
So grief shall harbour hope within thine heart;
So dread shall caus the flood of joy to flow;
So shame shall send sweet solace to thy smart:
So love, so hope, so joy, so solace sweet
Shall make my soul in heavenly bliss to fleet.
So grief shall harbour hope within thine heart;
So dread shall caus the flood of joy to flow;
So shame shall send sweet solace to thy smart:
So love, so hope, so joy, so solace sweet
Shall make my soul in heavenly bliss to fleet.
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Wo, where no hate doth no such love allure!
Wo, where such grief makes no such hope proceed!
Wo, where such dread doth not such joy procure!
Wo, where such shame doth not such solace breed!
Wo, where no hate, no grief, no dread, no shame
No love, no hope, no joy, no solace frame!
Wo, where such grief makes no such hope proceed!
Wo, where such dread doth not such joy procure!
Wo, where such shame doth not such solace breed!
Wo, where no hate, no grief, no dread, no shame
No love, no hope, no joy, no solace frame!
X. PSALME XXXVI.
DECLINA A MALO, ET FAC BONUM.
Leave sin, ere sin leave thee; do good,And both without delay;
Less fit he will to morrow be,
Who is not fit to day.
[OMITTED]
| The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie | |