Specimens of Middle Scots

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W. Blackwood and sons, 1902 - Dialect literature, Scottish - 374 pages

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Page 34 - O blissit be the hour That thow wes chosin to be our principall ; Welcome to be our princes of honour, Our perle, our plesans and our paramour, 180 Our peax, our play, our plane felicite: Chryst the conserf frome all adversite.
Page 48 - I hard, under ane holyn hevinlie grein hewit, Ane hie speiche, at my hand, with hautand wourdis ; With that in haist to the hege so hard I inthrang That I was heildit with hawthorne and with heynd leveis : Throw pykis of the plet thorne I presandlie luikit, 15 Gif ony persoun wald approche within that plesand garding.
Page 178 - And everie ilk jeir scho brocht vs hame ane foill. Wee had thrie ky that was baith fat and fair, Nane tydier into the toun of Air. My father was sa waik of blude and bane, That he deit, quhairfoir my mother maid great maine.
Page 14 - HALE, STERNE superne ! Hale, in eterne, In Godis sicht to schyne ! Lucerne in derne for to discerne Be glory and grace devyne ; Hodiern, modern, sempitern, 5 Angelicall regyne ! Our tern inferne for to dispern Helpe, rialest rosyne.
Page 228 - ... be thair awin ingynis but help of any vther. Thairfore quhat I speik of poesie now, I speik of it as being come to mannis age and perfectioun, quhair as then it was bot in the infancie and chyldheid.
Page 229 - Nature, and will mak yow within short space weary of the haill airt : quhair as, gif Nature be cheif, and bent to it, reulis will be ane help and staff to Nature.
Page 32 - As herb of vertew and of odor sueit ; And lat no nettill vyle, and full of vyce, Hir fallow to the gudly flour delyce ; Nor latt no wyld weid, full of churlicheness, Compair hir till the lilleis nobilness. 1 40 Nor hald non vdir flour in sic denty...
Page 31 - And crownit him with dyademe full deir, Off radyous stonis, most ryall for to se ; Saying, " The King of Beistis mak I the, And the cheif protector in woddis and schawis ; Onto thi leigis go furth, and keip the lawis.
Page 178 - Meg my wife did murne both evin and morow Till at the last scho deit for verie sorow: And quhen the Vickar hard tell my wyfe was dead, The thrid Cow he cleikit be the head.

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