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* For evermair, I wait,' and langer too ;'.

Of my defence now frae yon cruel beast; * Gif that be true, ye are at ease,' quoth sho.

Alinighty God, keep me fra sic a feast ! To eik the cheer, in plenty furth they broucht

Were I into the place that I cam frae, A plate of groatis and a dish of meal,

For weel nor wae I should ne'er come again.' A threif? of cakes, I trow sho spared them noucht,

With that sho took her leave, and forth can gae, Abundantly about her for to deal.

While through the corn, while through the plain. Furmage fúll fine sho broucht instead of jeil,

When she was furth and free she was right fain, A white candle out of a coffer staw,

And merrily linkit unto the muir,
Instead of spice, to creish their teeth witha'.

I cannot tell how afterward sho fure.
Thus made they merry, while they micht nae mair,
And, 'Hail Yule, hail ! they cryit up on hie ;

But I heard syne she passit to her den,
But after joy aftentimes comes care,

As warm as woo', suppose it was not grit, And trouble after grit prosperity.

Full beinly stuffit was baith butt and ben, Thus as they sat in all their solity,

With peas and nuts, and beans, and rye and wheat ; The Spenser cam with keyis in his hand,

Whene'er sho liked, sho had enough of meat, Opened the door, and them at dinner fand.

In quiet and ease, withouten [ony) dread,

But till her sister's feast nae mair sho gaed.
They tarried not to wash, as I suppose,
But on to gae, wha micht the foremost win ;

(From the Moral.] The burgess had a hole and in sho goes,

Blissed be simple life, withouten dreid ; Her sister had nae place to hide her in :

Blissed be sober feast in quieté ; To see that silly mouse it was great sin,

Wha has eneuch of no more has he neid, Sae desolate and wild of all gude rede,

Though it be little into quantity. For very fear sho fell in swoon, near dead.

Grit abundance, and blind prosperity, Then as God wald it fell in happy case,

Oft timis make ane evil conclusion; The Spenser had nae leisure for to bide,

The sweetest life, theirfor, in this country, Nowther to force, to seek, nor scare, nor chase,

Is of sickerness, with small possession.
But on he went and cast the door up-wide.
This burgess inouse his passage weel has spied.

The Garment of Good Ladies.
Out of her hole sko cam and cried on hie,

Would my good lady love me best, *How, fair sister, cry peep, where'er thou be.'

And work after my will, The rural mouse lay flatlings on the ground,

I should a garment goodliest And for the deid sho was full dreadand,3

Gar make her body till."
For till her heart strake mony waeful stound,

Of high honour should be her hood,
As in a fever trembling foot and hand;
And when her sister in sic plight her fand,

Upon her head to wear,
For very pity sho began to greet,

Garnish'd with governance, so good Syne comfort gave, with words as honey sweet.

Na deeming should her deir.2 "Why lie ye thus ? Rise up, my sister dear,

Her sark3 should be her body next, Come to your meat, this peril is o’erpast.'

Of chastity so white : The other answered with a heavy cheer,

With shame and dread together mixty I may nought eat, sae sair I am aghast.

The same should be perfyte.4 Lever I had this forty dayis fast,

Her kirtle should be of clean constance, With water kail, and green beans and peas.

Lacit with lesum5 love ; Then all your feast with this dread and disease.

The mailies of continuance,
With fair 'treaty, yet gart she her rise ;

For never to remove.
To board they went, and on together sat,
But scantly had they drunken anes or twice,

Her gown should be of goodliness,
When in cam Gib Hunter, our jolly cat,

Well ribbon'd with renown; And bade God speed. The burgess up then gat,

Purfill'd 7 with pleasure in ilke place, And till her hole she fled as fire of fint;

Furrit with fine fashioùn. Bawdrons the other by the back has hent.

Her belt should be of benignity, Frae foot to foot he cast her to and frae,

About her middle meet; While up, while down, as cant as only kid;

Her mantle of humility, . While wald he let her run under the strae

To thole 9 both wind and weit. 10
While wald he wink and play with her buik-hid ;

Her hat should be of fair having,
Thus to the silly mouse great harm he did;
While at the last, through fair fortune and hap,

And her tippet of truth;

Her patelet of good pansing, 11
Betwixt the dresser and the wall she crap.

Her hals-ribbon of ruth. 12
Syne up in haste behind the paneling,
Sae hie sho clam, that Gilbert might not get her,

Her sleeves should be of esperance,
And by the cluiks craftily can hing,

To keep her fra despair : Till he was gane, her cheer was all the better :

Her glovis of good governance, Syne down sho lap, when there was nane to let her ;

To hide her fingers fair. Then on the burgess mouth loud couth sho cry,

Her shoen should be of sickerness, • Fareweel sister, here I thy feast defy.

In sign that she not slide ; Thy mangery is mingets all with care,

Her hose of honesty, I guess,
Thy guise is gude, thy gane-full sour as gall;

I should for her provide.
The fashion of thy feris is but fair,
So sball thou find hereafterward may fall.

No opinion should I thank yon curtain, and yon parpane wall,

1 Cause to be made to her shape.

injure her. S Shift. Perfect. 5 Lawful.

6 Eyelet-holes for lacing her kirtle. 7 Parfilé (French), ? A set of twenty-four. Suppose.

fringed, or bordered.

9 Endure. Each.

10 Wet. 8 She was in fear of immediate death. 4 Rather. 5 Mixed. | 1 Thinking. 18 Her neck-ribbon of pity.

Would she put on this garment gay,

allegorical poems are the Thistle and the Rose (a I durst swear by my scill,

triumphant nuptial song for the union of James and That she wore never green nor gray

the Princess Margaret), the Dance, and the Golden That set- her half so weel.

Terge ; but allegory abounds in many others, which

do not strictly fall within this class. Perhaps the WILLIAM DUNBAR.

most remarkable of all his poems is one of those

here enumerated, the Dance. It describes a procesWILLIAM DUNBAR, a poet,' says Sir Walter

sion of the seven deadly sins in the infernal regions, Scott, «unrivalled by any that Scotland has ever

and for strength and vividness of painting, would produced,' flourished at the court of James IV., at

stand a comparison with any poem in the language. the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the six

The most solemn and impressive of the more exteenth centuries. His works, with the exception of

clusively moral poems of Dunbar, is one in which he one or two pieces, were confined, for above two cen

represents a thrush and nightingale taking opposite turies, to an obscure manuscript, from which they

sides in a debate on earthly and spiritual affections, were only rescued when their language had become

the thrush ending every speech or stanza with a so antiquated, as to render the world insensible in a

recommendation of a lusty life in Love's service, great measure to their many excellencies. To no other

and the nightingale with the more melodious declacircumstance can we attribute the little justice that

ration, 'All Love is lost but upon God alone.' is done by popular fame to this highly-gifted poet,

There is, however, something more touching to comwho was alike master of every kind of verse, the

mon feelings in the less laboured verses in which he solemn, the descriptive, the sublime, the comic, and

moralises on the brevity of existence, the shortness the satirical. Having received his education at the

and uncertainty of all ordinary enjoyments, and the university of St Andrews, where, in 1479, he took

| wickedness and woes of mankind. the degree of master of arts, Dunbar became a friar of the Franciscan order (Grey Friars), in which ca.

This wavering warld's wretchedness pacity he travelled for some years not only in Scot

The failing and fruitless business, land, but also in England and France, preaching, as

The misspent time, the service vain, was the custom of the order, and living by the alms

For to consider is ane pain. of the pious, a mode of life which he himself acknowledges to have involved a constant exercise of false The sliding joy, the gladness short, hood, deceit, and flattery. In time, he had the grace, The feigned love, the false comfort, or was enabled by circumstances, to renounce this The sweir abade, the slightful train,2 sordid profession. It is supposed, from various al

For to consider is ane pain. lusions in his writings, that, from about the year

The guggared mouths, with minds therefra, 1491 to 1500, he was occasionally employed by the

The figured speech, with faces tway ; king (James IV.) in some subordinate, but not un

The pleasing tongues, with hearts unplain, important capacity, in connexion with various fo

For to consider is ane pain. reign embassies, and that he thus visited Germany, Italy, Spain, and France, besides England and Ire- Or, in another poemland. He could not, in such a life, fail to acquire

Evermair unto this warld's joy, much of that knowledge of mankind which forms so

As nearest heir, succeeds annoy; important a part of the education of the poet. In 1500, he received from the king a pension of ten

Therefore when joy may not remain,

His very heir, succeedés Pain. pounds, afterwards increased to twenty, and finally to eighty. He is supposed to have been employed He is, at the same time, by no means disposed habituby James in some of the negotiations preparatory to ally to take gloomy or desponding views of life. He his marriage with the Princess Margaret, daughter has one poem, of which each stanza ends with For of Henry VII., which took place in 1503. For some to be blyth methink it best.' In another, he advises. years ensuing, he seems to have lived at court, re

since life is so uncertain, that the good things of this galing his royal master with his poetical composi

world should be rationally enjoyed while it is yet tions, and probably also his conversation, the charms

possible. "Thine awn gude spend,' says he, while of which, judging from his writings, must have been

thou has space. There is yet another, in which very great. It is sad to relate of one who possessed these Horatian maxims are still more pointedly Bo buoyant and mirthful a spirit, that his life was

enforced, and from this we shall select a few not, as far as we can judge, a happy one. He ap

stanzas :pears to have repined greatly at the servile court

which he was condemned to lead, and to have | Be merry, man, and tak not sair in mind longed anxiously for some independent source of in- The wavering of this wretched world of sorrow come. Amongst his poems, are many containing To God be humble, to thy friend be kind, nothing but expressions of solicitude on this subject. And with thy neighbours gladly lend and borrow; He survived the year 1517, and is supposed to have His chance to-night, it may be thine to-morrow; died about 1520, at the age of sixty ; but whether Be blyth in hearte for my aventure, he ultimately succeeded in obtaining preferment, is For oft with wise men it has been said aforow, not known. His writings, with scarcely any excep- Without Gladness availes no 'Treasure. tion, remained in the obscurity of manuscript till the beginning of the last century; but his fame has | Make thee gude cheer of it that God thee sends, been gradually rising since then, and it was at

For warld's wrak but welfare3 nought avails; length, in 1834, so great as to justify a complete | Nae gude is thine save only that thou spends, edition of his works, by Mr David Laing.

Remanant all thou bruikes but with bails The poems of Dunbar may be said to be of three

Seek to solace when sadness thee assails; classes, the Allegorical, the Moral, and the Comic: In dolour lang thy life may not endure, besides which there is a vast number of productions

Wherefore of comfort set up all thy sails; composed on occasions affecting himself, and which

Without Gladness availes no Treasure. may therefore be called personal poems. His chief

1 Delay. Snare. 8 World's trash without health. 1 Salva tion.

9 Became 4 Injuries.

lite which h

Follow on pity, flee trouble and debate,

And died himself, fro' dead him to succour; With famous folkis hald thy company;

O, whether was kythit there true love or none ! Be charitable and hum'le in thine estate,

He is most true and stedfast paramour,
For warldly honour lastes but a cry.

And love is lost but upon him alone.
For trouble in earth tak no melancholy;
Be rich in patience, if thou in gudes be poor;

The Merle said, Why put God so great beauty
Who lives merrily he lives mightily;

In ladies, with sic womanly having, Without Gladness availes no Treasure.

But gif he would that they suld lovit be?

To love eke nature gave them inclining, The philosophy of these lines is excellent.

And He of nature that worker was and king, Dunbar was as great in the comic as in the solemn Would nothing frustir put, nor let be seen, strain, but not so pure. His Twa Married Women Into his creature of his own making ; and the Widow is a conversational piece, in which A lusty life in Lovis service been. three gay ladies discuss, in no very delicate terms,

| The Nightingale said, Not to that behoof the merits of their husbands, and the means by

Put God sic beauty in a lady's face, which wives may best advance their own interests. The Friars of Berwick (not certainly his) is a clever

That she suld have the thank therefor or luve,

But He, the worker, that put in her sic grace ; but licentious tale. There is one piece of peculiar

Of beauty, bounty, riches, time, or space, humour, descriptive of an imaginary tournament

And every gudeness that been to come or gone between a tailor and a shoemaker, in the same low

The thank redounds to him in every place : region where he places the dance of the seven deadly

All love is lost, but upon God alone.
sins. It is in a style of the broadest farce, and full
of very offensive language, yet as droll as anything | O Nightingale ! it were a story nice,
in Scarron or Smollett.

That love suld not depend on charity;
And, gif that virtue contrar be to vice,

Then love maun be a virtue, as thinks me;
The Merle and Nightingale.

For, aye, to love envy maun contrar be:
In May, as that Aurora did upspring,

God bade eke love thy neighbour fro the spleen ;? With crystal een chasing the cluddes sable,

And who than ladies sweeter neighbours be ? I heard à Merle with merry notis sing

A lusty life in Lovis service been. A sang of love, with voice right comfortable,

The Nightingale said, Bird, why does thou rave ? Again' the orient beamis, amiable,

Man may take in his lady sic delight, Upon a blissful branch of laurel green ;

Him to forget that her sic virtue gave, This was her sentence, sweet and delectable,

And for his heaven receive her colour white: A lusty life in Lovis service been.

Her golden tressit hairis redomite, 3 Under this branch ran down a river bright,

Like to Apollo's beamis tho' they shone,

Suld not him blind fro' love that is perfite;
Of balmy liquor, crystalline of hue,

All love is lost but upon God alone.
Again' the heavenly azure skyis light,
Where did upon the tother side pursue

The Merle said, Love is cause of honour aye,
A Nightingale, with sugared notis new,

Love makis cowards manhood to purchase, Whose angel feathers as the peacock shone ;

Love makis knichtis hardy at essay, This was her song, and of a sentence true,

Love makis wretches full of largéness, All love is lost but upon God alone.

Love makis sweir 4 folks full of business, With notis glad, and glorious harmony,

Love makis sluggards fresh and well be seen,

Love changes vice in virtuous nobleness ;
This joyful merle, so salust she the day,
While rung the woodis of her melody,

A lusty life in Lovis service been.
Saying, Awake, ye lovers of this May ;

The Nightingale said, True is the contrary; Lo, fresh Flora has flourished every spray,

Sic frustis love it blindis men so far, As nature has her taught, the noble queen,

Into their minds it makis them to vary ; The field been clothit in a new array;

In false vain glory they so drunken are, A lusty life in Lovis service been.'

Their wit is went. of woe they are not waur,

While that all worship away be fro' them gone, Ne'er sweeter noise was heard with living man,

Fame, goods, and strength ; wherefore well say I daur, Na nade this merry gentle nightingale ;

All love is lost but upon God alone.
Her sound went with the river as it ran,
Out through the fresh and flourished lusty vale; Then said the Merle, Mine error I confess :
O Merle ! quoth she, O fool! stint of thy tale, This frustis love is all but vanity :
For in thy song good sentence is there none,

Blind ignorance me gave sic hardiness,
For both is tint, the time and the travail

To argue so again' the verity ; Of every love but upon God alone.

Wherefore I counsel every man that he

With love not in the feindis net be tone, 5 Cease, quoth the Merle, thy preaching, Nightingale :

But love the love that did for his love die :
Shall folk their youth spend into holiness?

All love is lost but upon God alone.
Of young sanctís, grows auld feindís, but fable;
Fyé, hypocrite, in yeiris tenderness,

Then sang they both with voices loud and clear, Again' the law of kind thou goes express,

The Merle sang, Man, love God that has thee wrought. That crookit age makes one with youth serene, The Nightingale sang, Man, love the Lord most dear, Whom nature of conditions made diverse :

That thee and all this world made of nuught. A lusty life in Lovis service been.

The Merle said, Love him that thy love has sought

Fro' heaven to earth, and here took flesh and bone. The Nightingale said, Fool, remember thee,

The Nightingale sang, And with his dead thee bought: That both in youth and eild, and every hour,

| All love is lost, but upon him alone. The love of God most dear to man suld be ; That him, of nought, wrought like his own figour,

1 Shown.

? Equivalent to the modem phrase, from the 1 Age.

heart. 8 Bound, encircled. 4 Slothful. 6 Ta'en ; taken.

Then flew thir birdis o'er the boughis sheen,
Singing of love amang the leavis small;
Whose eidant plead yet made my thoughtis grein,
Both sleeping, waking, in rest and in travail :
Me to recomfort most it does avail,
Again for love, when love I can find none,
To think how sung this Merle and Nightingale ;
All love is lost but upon God alone.

Next in the Dance followed Envy,
Filled full of feid and felony,

Hid malice and despite :
For privy hatred that traitor trembled;
Him followed mony freikdissembled,

With feigned wordis white :
And flatterers into men's faces ;
And backbiters in secret places,

To lee that had delight;
And rouners of fals lesings,
Alas! that courts of noble kings,

Of them can never be quit.

The Dance.* Of Februar the fifteenth nicht, Full lang before the dayis licht,

I lay intill a trance ; And then I saw baith heaven and hell : Methocht amangs the fiendis fell,

Mahoun' gart cry ane Dance
Of shrewis that were never shriven,
Agains the fast of Fasteru's Even,

To mak their observance
He bade gallands gae graith a guise,5
And cast up gamonds 6 in the skies,

As varlots does in France.

Heillie 7 harlots, haughten-wise, 8
Came in with mony sundry guise,

But yet leuch never Mahoun ;
While preests came in with bare shaven necks,
Then all the fiends leuch and made gecks,

Black-belly and Bausy-broun.9

Next him in Dance came COVETICE,
Root of all evil and grund of vice,

That never could be content :
Caitiffs, wretches, and ockerars,?
Hood-pykes, 3 hoarders, and gatherers,

All with that warlock went :
Out of their throats they shot on other
Het molten gold, methought, a fother,

As fire-taught maist fervent ; Ay as they toomit them of shot, i no Fiends filled them new up to the throat

With gold of all kind prent.5 Syne SWEIRNESS,6 at the second bidding, Came like a sow out of a midden,

Full sleepy was his grunyie ;7 Mony sweir bumbard belly-huddron, Mony slute daw, and sleepy duddron,

Him servit ay with sunyie.10 He drew them furth' intill a chenyie, And Belial with a bridle reinyie

Ever lashed them on the lungie :0 In dance they were sae slaw of feet, They gave them in the fire a heat,

And made them quicker of counyie.

Then the foul monster GLUTTONY,
Of wame insatiable and greedy,

To dance he did him dress :
Him followed mony foul drunkart,
With can and collop, caup and quart,

In surfeit and excess ; Full mony a waistful wally-drag, With wames unweildable, did forth wag,

In creish that did incress. Drink ! ay they cried, with mony a gape ; The Fiends gave them het lead to lap,

Their levery13 was nae less.

Let see, quoth he, who now beging.
With that the foul Seven Deadly Sins

Begoud to leap at anes.
And first in all the Dance was PRIDE,
With hair wiled back, and bonnet on side,

Like to mak vaistie wanes ;10 And round about him, as a wheel, Hang all in rumplesll to the heel

His kethat12 for the nanes.13 Mony proud trumpour with him trippit ; Through scaldand fire aye as they skippit,

They grinned with hideous granes. Then Ire came in with sturt and strife; His hand was aye upon his knife,

He brandished like a bear ; Boasters, braggarts, and bargainers, After him, passit in to pairs,

All boden in 'feir of weir, 14 In jacks, and scrips, and bonnets of steel ; Their legs were chained down to the heel;

Froward was their effeir : Some upon other with brands beft, 15 Some jaggit others, to the heft,

With knives that sharp could shear. i Whose close disputation yet moved my thoughts. 9 The Devil.

Nae menstrals playit to them, but doubt,
For gleemen there were halden out,

By day and eke by nicht ;14
Except a menstral that slew a man,
Sae till his heritage he wan,

And entered by brief of richt.
Then cried Mahoun for a Hieland padian : 18
Syne ran a fiend to fetch Macfadyan,

Far northward in a nook :
By he the coronach had done shout,
Erschemen so gathered him about,

In hell great room they took :
Thae termagants, with tag and tatter,
Full loud in Ersche begond to clatter,

And roop like raven and rook.

3 Accursed men, who had never been absolved in the other world.

The eve of Lent. 5 Prepare a masque.

Gambols.

7 Proud. 8 Haughtily. The names of popular spirits in Scotland.

10 Something touching puffed up manners appears to be hinted at in this obscure line. 11 Large folds. 19 Robe.

13 For the occasion. 14 Arrayed in the accoutrements of war. 15 Gave blows.

* • Dunbar is a poet of a high order. * * His Dance of the Seven Deadly Sins, though it would be absurd to compare it with the beauty and refinement of the celebrated Ode on the Passions, has yet an animated picturesqueness not unlike that of Collins. The effect of both pieces shows how much more potent allegorical figures become, by being made to fleet suddenly before the imagination, than by being detained in its

iew by prolonged description. Dunbar conjures up the per sonified sins, as Collins does the passions, to rise, to strike, to disappear. “They come like shadows, so depart." '-CAMP. BILL

1 Many contentious persons.

9 Usurers. 8 Misers.

* Great quantity. 6 Every coinage 6 Laziness. 7 Visage.

8 Dirty, lazy tipplers. 9 Slow and sleepy drabs. 10 Excuse. 1 Loins. 12 Circulation, as of coin.

13 Reward. 14 A compliment, obviously, to the poetical profession.

15 Pageant. In this stanza Dunbar satirises the outlandish habits and language of the Highlanders.

The Devil sae deavit was with their yell, "That in the deepest pot of hell,

He smoorit them with smook.

Tidings fra the Session. [A conversation between two rustics, designed to satirise the proceedings in the supreme civil law court of Scotland.]

Ane muirland man, of upland mak,
At hame thus to his neighbour'spak,
What tidings, gossip, peace or weir ?
The tcther rouniti in his ear,

I tell you under this confession,
But lately lichtit off my meare,

I coine of Edinburgh fra the Sessicn.
What tidings heard you there, I pray you?
The tother answerit, I sall say you :
Keep well this secret. gentle brother ;

Is na man there that trusts another :
Ane common doer of transgression,

Of innocent folk preveens a futher ::
Sic tidings heard I at the Session.
Some with his fallow rouns him to please,
That wald for envy bite aff his nese ;3
His fa' some by the oxter leads ;
Some patters with his mouth on beads,

That has his mind all on oppression;
Some becks full law and shaws bare heads,

Wad look full heigh were not the Session.
Some, bydand the law, lays land in wed;5
Some, super-expended, goes to bed ;
Some speeds, for he in court has means;
Some of partiality compleeng,

How feido and favour flemis7 discretion ;
Some speaks full fair, and falsely feigns :

Sic tidings heard I at the Session.
Some castis summons, and some excepts ;
Some stand beside and skailed law kepps ;
Some is continued ; some wins ; some tynes;
Some maks him merry at the wines ;

Some is put out of his possession ;
Some herried, and on credence dines :

Sic tidings heard I at the Session.
Some swears, and some forsakes God,
Some in ane lamb-skin is ane tod 8
Some in his tongue his kindness turses ;9
Soine cuts throats, and some pykes purses ;

Some goes to gallows with procession ;
Some sains the seat, and some them curses :

Sic tidings heard I at the Session.
· Religious men of diverse places
Comes there to woo and see fair faces ;

And are unmindful of their profession,
The younger at the elder leers :
Sic tidings heard I at the Session.

Of Discretion in Giving.
To speak of gifts and almos deeds :
Some gives for merit, and some for meeds ;

Some, wardly honour to uphie ;
Some gives to them that nothing needs ;

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some gives for pride and glory vain;
Some gives with grudging and with pain ;

Some gires on prattick for supplie;
Some gives for twice as gude again :

In Giving sould Discretion be.
" Whispered. Is advanced before a great number.
# Nose
4 Armpit.

Some gives for thank, and some for threat;
Some gives money, and some gives meat;

Some givis wordis fair and slie ;
And gifts fra some may na man treit:

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some is for gift sae lang required,
While that the craver be so tired,

That ere the gift delivered be,
The thank is frustrate and expired :

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some gives so little full wretchedly,
That all his gifts are not set by,

And for a hood-pick halden is he,
That all the warld cries on him, Fyel

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some in his giving is so large,
That all o'er-laden is his barge;

Then vice and prodigalitie,
There of his honour does discharge :

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some to the rich gives his gear,
That might his giftis weel forbear;

And, though the poor for faultsould die,
His cry not enters in his ear:

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some gives to strangers with faces new,
That yesterday fra Flanders flew ;3

And to auld servants list not see,
Were they never of sae great virtue:

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some gives to them can ask and pleinyie,4
Some gives to them can flatter and feignie;

Some gives to men of honestie,
And halds all janglers at disdenyie :

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some gettis gifts and rich arrays,
To swear all that his master says,

Though all the contrair weel knaws he ;
Are mony sic now in thir days:

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some gives to gude men for their thews;
Some gives to trumpours and to shrews;

Some gives to knaw his authoritie,
But in their office gude fund in few is :

In Giving sould Discretion be.
Some givis parochines full wide,
Kirks of St Bernard and St Bride,

The people to teach and to o'ersee,
Though he nae wit has them to guide :
In Giving sould Discretion be.

Of Discretion in Taking.
After Giving I speak of Taking,
| But little of ony gude forsaking ;

Some takes o'er little authoritie, And some o'er mickle, and that is glaiking ::

In Taking sould Discretion be. The clerks takes benefices with brawls, Some of St Peter and some of St Paul's;

Tak be the rents, no care has he,
Suppose the devil tak all their sauls :

In Taking sould Discretion be.
Barons taks fra the tenants puir
All fruit that growis on the fur,

In mails and gersomsti raisit o'er bie ;
And gars them beg fra door to door :

In Taking sould Discretion be. 1 Appreciated.

5 Pledge. 6 Hostility. 1 Banishes. 8 Fox

9 Carries.

2 Starvation. 3 A large proportion of the strangers who visited Scotland at this early period were probably froin Flanders. 4 Complain.

5 Foolish. 6 Rents and fines of entry.

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