Читать книгу Scottish Poetry of the Sixteenth Century - Various - Страница 5

Table of Contents

Epistil to the Kingis Grace.

Rycht potent Prince, of hie Imperial blude,

Unto thy Grace I traist it be weill knawin

My servyce done unto your Celsitude,

Quhilk nedis nocht at length for to be schawin;

And thocht[13] my youtheid now be neir ouer-blawin,

Excerst[14] in servyce of thyne Excellence,

Hope hes me hecht[15] ane gudlie recompense.

Quhen thow wes young I bure thee in myne arme

Full tenderlie, tyll thow begouth to gang[16];

And in thy bed oft happit[17] thee full warme,

With lute in hand, syne[18], sweitlie to thee sang:

Sumtyme, in dansing, feiralie[19] I flang;

And sumtyme, playand farsis on the flure;

And sumtyme, on myne office takkand cure:

And sumtyme, lyke ane feind, transfigurate,

And sumtyme, lyke the greislie gaist of Gye[20];

In divers formis oft-tymes disfigurate,

And sumtyme, dissagyist full plesandlye.

So, sen[21] thy birth, I have continewalye

Bene occupyit, and aye to thy plesoure,

And sumtyme, Seware, Coppare, and Carvoure[22];

Thy purs-maister and secreit Thesaurare[23],

Thy Yschare[24], aye sen thy natyvitie,

And of thy chalmer cheiffe Cubiculare,

Quhilk, to this hour, hes keipit my lawtie[25];

Lovyng[26] be to the blyssit Trynitie

That sic[27] ane wracheit worme hes maid so habyll[28]

Tyll sic ane Prince to be so greabyll!

But now thow arte, be influence naturall,

Hie of ingyne[29], and rycht inquisityve

Of antique storeis, and deidis marciall;

More plesandlie the tyme for tyll ouerdryve,

I have, at length, the storeis done descryve[30]

Of Hectour, Arthour, and gentyll Julyus,

Of Alexander, and worthy Pompeyus;

Of Jasone, and Medea, all at lenth,

Of Hercules the actis honorabyll,

And of Sampsone the supernaturall strenth,

And of leill luffaris[31] storeis amiabyll;

And oft-tymes have I feinyeit mony fabyll,

Of Troylus the sorrow and the joye,

And Seigis all of Tyir, Thebes, and Troye.

The propheceis of Rymour, Beid, and Marlyng,[32]

And of mony uther plesand storye,

Of the Reid Etin, and the Gyir Carlyng,[33]

Confortand thee, quhen that I saw thee sorye.

Now, with the supporte of the King of Glorye,

I sall thee schaw ane storye of the new,

The quhilk affore I never to thee schew.

But humilie I beseik thyne Excellence,

With ornate termis thocht I can nocht expres

This sempyll mater, for laik of eloquence;

Yit, nochtwithstandyng all my besynes,

With hart and hand my pen I sall addres

As I best can, and most compendious:

Now I begyn: the mater hapnit thus.