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The poems (1902)

Scott, Alexander (1525?-1584?)

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The Wryttar to the Reidaris.
 1. 
1. Ane new ȝeir gift, to the quene Mary, Quhen scho come first hame.
 2. 
2. The iusting and debait vp at the Drum, Betuix Wa Adamsone, and Iohnie Sym.
 3. 
3. Of May.
 4. 
4. [O Lusty May, with Flora Quene.]
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Poems on the Pains and Pleasures of Love.
 5. 
5. [Luve preysis but comparesone.]
 6. 
6. [Haif hairt in hairt, ȝe hairt of hairtis, haill.]
 7. 
7. The anschir to the ballat of hairtis.
 8. 
8. [Hence, hairt, with hir þat most departe.]
 9. 
9. [Quha is perfyte to put in wryt.]
 10. 
10. [I wil be plane and lufe affane.]
 11. 
11. [Only to ȝow in erd that I lufe best.]
 12. 
12. [Rycht as þe glass bene thirlit thrucht with bemis.]
 13. 
13. [“Up, helsum hairt! thy rutis rais, & lowp.”
 14. 
14. [How suld my febill body fure.]
 15. 
15. [Marvilling in mynd, quhat ailis fortoun at me.]
 16. 
16. [Departe, departe, departe.]
 17. 
17. [That evir I luvit allace þairfoir.]
 18. 
18. [Oppressit hairt, indure.]
 19. 
19. [Leif luve & lat me leif allone.]
 20. 
20. [Thocht I in grit distress.]
 21. 
21. [Langour to leive, allace.]
 22. 
22. [Favour is fair in luvis lair.]
 23. 
23. [Returne thee, hairt, hamewart agane.]
 24. 
24. [In June the jem of joy and geme.]
 25. 
25. [Thair is nocht ane winche þat I se.]
 26. 
26. Quod Scott quhen his wyfe left him.
 27. 
27. [Quha lykis to luve.]
 28. 
28. [Lo! quhat it is to luve.]
 29. 
29. [Quhome sould I wyt of my mischance.]
 30. 
30. It cumis ȝow luvaris to be laill.
 31. 
31. [Fra raige of ȝowth the rynk hes rune.]
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Satires.
 32. 
32. The slicht remeid of luve.
 33. 
33. Ane ballat maid to þe derisioun and scorne of wantoun wemen.
 34. 
34. [I mvse and mervillis in my mind.]
 35. 
35. [Ladies, be war þat plesand ar.]
 36. 
36. [Ȝe blindit luvaris luke.]
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Paraphrases of the Psalms.
 37. 
37. The first psalme.
 38. 
38. The fyifty psalme.
  
The Wryttar to the Redare.

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28

13. [“Up, helsum hairt! thy rutis rais, & lowp.”

Vp, helsum hairt! thy rutis rais, and lowp;
Exalt and clym within my breist in staige;
Art thow nocht wantoun, haill, & in gud howp,
Fermit in grace, and free of all thirlaige,
Bathing in bliss, and sett in hie curaige?
Braisit in joy, no falt may the affray,
Having thy ladeis hart as heretaige,
In blenche-ferme ffor ane sallat every May:
So neidis thow nocht now sussy, sytt, nor sorrow,
Sen thow art sure of sollace evin & morrow.
Thow Cupeid rewardit me with thiss;
I am thy awin trew liege, withowt tressone.
Thair levis no man in moir eiss, welth, and bliss,
I knaw no siching, sadnes, nor ȝit soun,
Walking, thocht, langour, lamentatioun,
Dolor, dispair, weiping nor jelosye;
My breist is woyd and purgit of pussoun;
I feill no pane, I haif no purgatorye;
Bot peirles, perfytt, paradisall plesour,
With mirry hairt and mirthfulnes but mesoure.
My lady, lord, thow gaif me for to hird:
Within myne armes I nureiss on the nycht;
Kissing, I say, my bab, my tendir bird,
Sweit maistres, lady luffe, & lusty wicht,
Steir, rewll, and gyder of my senssis richt!
My voice surmontis the sapheir cludis hie,
Thanking grit god of that tressour & micht.
I coft hir deir, bot scho fer derrer me,
Quhilk hasard honor, fame in aventeur,
Committing clene hir corse to me in cure.
In oxsteris cloiss we kiss, and cossis hairtis,
Brynt in desyre of amouris play and sport;
Meittand oure lustis, spreitles we twa depairtis.
Prolong with lasar, lord, I the exhort
29

Sic tyme that we may boith tak our confort;
First for to sleip, syne walk withowt espyis;
I blame the cok, I plene the nicht is schort:
Away I went, my wache the cuschett cryis,
Wissing all luvaris leill to haif sic chance
That thay may haif ws in remembrance.
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