The Æneid of Virgil Translated Into Scottish Verse

CAP. X

Heir ȝyng Ascanyus the strang Numanus slew,Quhilk wordis owtragyus to the Troianys schew.Ascanyus this ilk tyme, as is said,That wont was with his schot bot to invaidThe wild bestis, quhilkis cowth do nocht bot fle,First heir in bargane leyt swyft arrowys fle;And by hys handis slew strang Numanus,That was to surname clepit Remulus,Had laitly Turnus ȝyngast systir wed,As for hys spows, and brocht ontill hys bed.This ilk Numanus Remulus, in that sted,Befor the frontis of the batell ȝeyd,Furth schawand mony diuers sawys seir,Baith ganand and onganand forto heir,Rycht prowd and hely in his breist and hartThat newlyngis of the kynrik was a partTo him befall; his gret estait this wysWoustand he schew with clamour and lowd cryis:Aschame ȝe nocht, Phrigyanys, that twys taik is,Tobe inclosyt amyd a fald of stakis,And be assegit agane sa oft sysWith akyn spilis and dikis on sik wys?Schame ȝe not to prolong ȝour lyvis? said he.Thir venquyst cowart wightis behald and se,That dar our spousage into batale craif!Quhat wild dotage so maid ȝour hedis raif?Or quhat onthrifty God in sic folyHes ȝou bywavit heir till Italy?Heir ar not the slaw weirmen Atrydes,Nor the fenȝear of fair speche Vlixes.Bot we, that bene a pepill derf and dourCumyn of kynd, as keyn men in a stour,Our ȝoung childring, the first tyme born thai ar,Onto the nixt rynnand flude we bair,To hardyn thar bodeis and to mak thame baldWith the chil frostis and the watyr cald:Our childir ȝyng exercis bisselyHuntyng with hundis, hornys, schowt, and cry,Wild deir throw owt the woddis chais and mait.To dant and reyn the horssis ayr and layt,That is thar game and sport thai hant on raw,Or with thar bowys schute, or dartis thraw.Our ȝong spryngaldis may all laubouris endur,Content of litill fuyde, I ȝou assur,Of ȝouth thai be accustumat tobe skant,The erd with plewch and harrowys forto dant,Or than in batal bettis citeis down.In euery age with irne grath ar we bown,And passand by the plewys, for gad wandis,Broddis the oxin with speris in our handis:Nor ȝit the slaw nor febill onweldy ageMay waik our spreit, nor mynys our curage,Nor of our strenth to altyr ocht or pair.The steill helmys we thrist on hedis hair;Best likis ws all tyme to rug and reif,To dryve away the spreth, and tharon leif.Ȝour pantit habittis dois of purpour schyne;Ȝour hartis lykis best, so I dyvyne,In idilnes to rest abuf al thing,To tak ȝour lust, and go in karellyng:Ȝour cotys hes traland slevys our ȝour handis,Ȝour foly hattis trappouris and brasyng bandis.O verray Phrygiane wifis, dasyt wightis!To call ȝou men of Troy that onrycht is;Ȝe be onworthy to sa hie style to clame.On Dyndyma top go, and walk at hame;Quhar as the quhissill rendris soundis seir,With tympanys, tawbronys, ȝe war wont to heir,And bos schawmys of turnyt buschboun treThat grew in Berecyntia montane hie,Onto the moder of Ida dedicat,Callys eftir ȝou to dans, and nocht debait:Ȝeld ȝou to men, and leif al ȝour armyng,Rendir ȝour swerdis, and all wapynnys resyng.Ascanyus ȝyng, byrnand for proper teyn,Sa gret owtrage of wordis mycht not sustene,Herand sa hie avant of pompus pryde,And sik dispyt blawyn owt apon hys syde.Hys bow with horsis sennonys bend hes he,Tharin a takill set of sovir tre,And tasand vp his armys far in twyn,Thus onto Jove lawly dyd begynTo mak hys first petitioun and prayer:Omnipotent hie Jupiter, me heirAssist to this hardy commancement!My self onto thy templis sal presentSolempnyt gyftis, maste gudly may be get,And eik befor thyne altar sall I setA ȝoung bullok of cullour quhite as snaw,With goldin schakaris hys forhed arrait on raw;The best salbe full tydy, tryg, and wight,With hed equale till hys moder on hyght,Can all reddy with hornys fuyn and put,And scrape or skattyr the soft sand with his fut.The fader of hevin exceppit hys prayer,And, on that part quhar the lift was maist cleir,Towart the left hand maid a thundyrryng:All sammyn soundyt the dedly bowys stryng.Quhyrrand smertly furth flaw the takill tyte,Quyte throw the hed the Remulus dyd smyte;The grundyn steill outthrowch hys tympillys glaid.Hald on thy ways in haist, Ascanyus said,Thy self to loif, knak now scornfullyWith prowd wordis all at standis by.Sik boydword heir the twys takyn TroianysSendis for hansell to Rutylianys.Thus far spekis Ascanyus, and na mair.Bot the Troianys rasyt a scry in the ayrWith rerd and clamour of blithnes, man and boy,That to the starnys thar curage sprang for joy,Ascanyus extolland abuf the skyis.And, as thai mak this ryot on sik wys,Down from the regioun of the hevin thoThe brycht curland haryt Appollo,Apon a clowd sittand quhar he wald,The ostis of Italianys can behald,And eik new Troys cite, with cheir glaidTill Iulus the victor thus he said:Eik and continew thy new vailȝeand dedis,Thou ȝong child; for that is the way the ledisVp to the starnys and the hevynnys hie,O thou verray Goddis ofspring, quod he,That sal engendir Goddis of thy seyd.In the, be verray resson and of neid,All batalys, quhilkis by werd ar destinateAgane Assaracus hows to move debait,Salbe appasit, and to quyet brocht.This litill town of Troy, that heir is wrocht,May nocht withhald the in sik boundis lyte.And sayand thus, from the heich hevin als tyteDiscendis he, movand the hailsum ayr,And to the child Ascanyus socht rycht thar:Hys figur changit that tyme as he waldIn lyknes of ane Butes, hayr and ald,That pursevant tofor and squyer had beTo Troiane Anchyses, fader of Enee,And trasty kepar of hys chalmyr dur;Now had Ene committ to hym the curFor tyll attend apon Ascanyus ȝyng.Lyke to this ancyent Butes in al thyngFurth steppys Phebus, baith in voce and hew,With lokkis quhite and armour na thing new,Rousty, and with a felloun sound clattring,And sic wordis spak to Iulus ȝyng,That otherwys is hayt Ascanyus,With ardent mynd of bargane desyrus:Eneas verray douchty son and ayr,It may suffice, the nedis do na mair,Sen, thou onhurt, with thy schote in this stedThe strang Numanus thou hes dung to ded:This first loving and eik hie renowneeThe souerane Apollo grantys the,Nor na disdene at the sal haue, suthly,Tobe hys peregall intill archery.Leif of my child, and of sic batale ces;Na mair at this tyme; draw the owt of pres.On this wys carpys the brycht Appollo,And in the myddis of hys sermond thoHe vanyst far away, I wait neuer quhar,Furth of this mortal sycht in the schire ayr.The nobillys, and the Troiane capitanys trew,Be thir takynnys the God Appollo knew,And hard hys arrowys clatterand in hys cace.Tharfor thai haue withdraw furth of that placeAscanyus, at brycht Phebus mychty charge,And wald no langar thoill hym go at large,All thocht to feght he had desyre and joy;Hame to hys innys dyd thai hym convoy:Syne to the bargane hes thame sped agane,In oppyn perrellys, dangeris, and all pane,Thar personys and thar lyvys for thar townOfferand, and for defens maid thame bown.

CAP. XI

Quhou Pandarus and Bitias, brethir twane,Kest vp the ȝettis, and thar was Bytias slane.Endlang the wallys kyrnellys euery stand,The bruyt and clamour rays fra hand to hand;Thar bustuus bowys keynly do thai bend,Scharp querrellis and castyng dartis furth send,Quhilk thai with lyamys and thwangis lang owt threw:Sa thik the ganȝeis and the flanys flew,That of schaftis and takillys all the feildisWar strowit, and the large planys ourheldis.On bos helmys and scheldis the weirly schoteMaid rap for rap, reboundand with ilk stot.Scharp and awfull incressis the bargane,Als violent as euer the ȝet doun raneFurth of the west doith smyte apon the wald,In October, quhen the twa sternys cald,That clepyt beyn the Kyddis, first vpspryngis;And als thik as the hail schour hoppys and dyngisIn furdys schald, and brays heir and thar,Quhen trublit beyn the hevynnys and the ayrWith stormy tempest and the northyn blastis,Quhill clowdis clattris, and all the lyft ourcastis.Pandarus and Bytias, twa brethir germane,By Alcanor engendryt, that Troiane,Quham Hybera, the wild foresteres knaw,Bred and vpbrocht in Jovys haly schaw,Sa byg ȝong men thai war, sa gret and wight,That equale semyt thame tobe of hightWith fyr treis of thar landis or hillys;And tharto eik sa egyr of thar willisAt thai the port, quhilk be Eneas chargeWas commandyt to kepe stekit, all at largeHas warpyt oppyn onbreid to the wall,And baldly dyd thar fays clepe and callTo entyr, gyf thay durst, and thame assay:Sa gret confidens in thar fors had thai.And thai within stude by the ȝet, that tyde,Quhilk oppin was on the rycht and left syde,As thai had towris beyn baith gret and squar,Enarmyt with thar wapynnys brycht and bair.The hie tymbrettis of thar helmys schane:Lyke to behald as bustuus akis twaneBesyde the beyn ryver Athesys grow,Or flowand fludis bankis of the Pow,Vpstrekand thar byg croppys to the ayr,And onsned branchis wavand heir and thar.Alsswith as the Rutylianys dyd seThe ȝet oppyn, thai rusch to the entre:Quercens formast, and Equycoly,A lusty knycht in armys rycht semly,Wight Tynarus, fers myndyt to assaill,And bald Hemon, with curage marcyall.Bot thai with all thar complicis in fyghtWar dung abak, and constrenyt tak flyght,By Troiane rowtis, or than in that stryfeQuha that abaid lost in the port thar lyfe.Tho brymmar grew thar fers mudis within,So that the Troianys can flok and sammyn rynTowart that place, and maid felloun debait;So bald thai wolx that in the plane gait,Ischand without the portis on the land,Thai durst recontyr thar fays hand for hand.A messynger to Turnus come that tyde,That wondir fersly at ane othir sydeThe town assalȝeis; and thar he til hym schewQuhat hait slauchter hys fays maid of new,And sik a port had all wyde oppyn set.Hys first purpos he left, and to that ȝet,With felloun ire movit, furth sprent he tho,Towart the Troianys and prowd brethir two:And first hes slane byg Antyphates,That him on cace met formest in the pres,Son to the bustuus nobill Sarpedon,In purches get a Theban wench apon:Hym smate he down with the cast of a dart;The fleand schaft Italian to his hartGlydand, throw owt the schire ayr duschit sone,The stomok persyt, and in the cost is done.The how cavern of his wond a fludeFurth bruschit of the blaknyt dedly blude;So deip the grundyn steill hed owt of sycht is,Ful hait and warm it festnyt in his lychtis.Syne Meropes and Erymanthus heAnd Aphydnus slew with his hand al thre;And eftir that, with a stern mynd full teyn,Slew Bytias, for al his glowrand eyn:Bot that was nother with dart, swerd, nor knyfe;For na sik wapyn mycht him haue reft the lyfe;Bot with ane hydduus byssand fyry speir,That clepit is Phalarica in weir,Quhilk with sa vehement fors this Turnus threwThat as the thundris dynt at him it flew:Quham nowder scheld of twa bull hydis thik,Nor ȝit the dowbill malyt traste hawbrik,All gilt with gold, mycht it resist nor stynt:The bustuus body down duschit of the dynt,Quhil all the erd to granyt with a rattill;The hydduus scheild abufe him maid a brattill:Lyke as the hie pillar of marbill stoneStandand apon the cost Euboycon,Vmquhile besyde Bais, the rych cite,With grysly swecht down duschit in the see;Quhilk was of ald of massy stanys a byng,And by the fludis sik wys doun was dyng,Hys fall drew down the cite quhar it stude,And ruschit in a fer way in the flude:The seys mixt ourran, and all ourhedBlak slyke and sand vp poplit in the sted;Quhill of the feirfull sovnd the ilandis twaTrymlyt, Inaryme and eik Prochita;Quhilk Inaryme, at Jupiteris command,Full hard bed is to Typheus the gyand.At this tyme Mars, the God armypotent,Ekyt the Latynys fors and hardyment,With felloun ire prikland so thar myndis,That as hym lyst he turnys so and wyndis;And makis the Troianys tak the flycht gud speid,On them he kest sik feir and schamfull dreid.The Latyn pepill flokkis on euery sydeQuhen thai beheld the port sa oppynyt wyde,Seand thai had a rowm to fecht at will;The God of stryfe thar curage steris thartill.

CAP. XII

Quhou Turnus the byg Pandarus smat doun,Lyke a wod lyoun past within the town.Pandarus, seand hys brotheris corps at erd,And on quhat wys thus fortune with thame ferd,And quhou the chance of batale ȝeid al wrang,Full forcyly with hys braid schuldris strangHe thristis to the levys of the ȝet,And closyt queym the entre, and furth schetWithout the port a gret sort of hys feris,In hard bargane amyd the mortal weris;And of hys ennemys sum inclosyt he,Ressavand all at thrang to the entre.A fuyll he was, and wytles in a thyng,Persauyt not Turnus, Rutilian kyng,So violently thryng in at the ȝet;Quham he onwar within the cite schet,Lyke as ane rageand wild tyger onstabillAmang the febill bestis onfensabill.Sone as Turnus hym hes inclusyt seyn,A glowand new lyght brystis from hys eyn,Hys armour ryngis or clattris horribilly;Hys crystis trymlyt on hys hed in hy,That in hys sanguane bludy scheild als strauchtKest schynand fyry bemys lyke fyre flaucht.All suddanly, affrayit EneadanysHys face onfrendly persauit and byg banys.The hydduus Pandarus than hym self furth schew,That wonder fervent in hys furour grew,Hys broderis slauchter to revenge in will,Thus austernly he spekis Turnus ontill:Thys is not queyn Amatais cheif cite,Suld the be geif into dowry, said he;Nor ȝit the myddis of Ardea cite bald,Thi faderis burgh, Turnus, doith the withhald:Thou seys thy fays strenth and wallys wyde;ȝeild the for thy, thou may eschape na syde.Turnus agane, with curage blyth and glaid,Nocht abasyt, ful baldly to hym said:My frend, begyn, gif thou hes hardyment,And mach with me allone apon this bent;And hand for hand, gif at it be thy will,Thou sal schaw Pryam heir thou hes fund Achill.The tother tho a huge speir of haill tre,With bark and knottis altogidder, leyt fleIn al his fors; bot the dynt dyd no deir;Nocht bot the ayr was wondyt with the speir:For wikkyt Juno, the ald Saturnus get,Choppyt by the schaft, and fixt it in the ȝet.Ha! quod Turnus, sa sal thou not astartThys wapyn now in faith or we depart,Nor on sik wys eschape this bytand brand,Quhilk my gret fors thus rollys in my hand:For he that aw this swerd, and wond sal wyrk,Is not sa faynt, ne sa sone sall nocht irk.And with that word, standand on hys typtays,Hevyng hys swerd, heich hys hand dyd rays;Down with the dynt duschit the steil blaid keynAmyd hys forhed, hard betwix hys eyn,Hys berdles chekis or hys chaftis rowndIn sondyr schorn hes with a grysly wound:Sa felloun sownd or clap maid this gret clasche,That of hys huge weght, fell with a rasche,The erd dyndlyt, and all the cite schuke.So large feild hys gowsty body tuke,That fer onbreid ourspred was all the plane,Hys armour sparkyt with hys blude and brane:Baith to and fra, apon hys schuldris tway,Hys hed clovyn in equale halfis lay.Of dreidfull raddour trymlyng for affray,The Troianys fled right fast and brak away:And gif Turnus had than incontinentRamembryt hym, and kauch in mynd to rentThe lokkis vp, and oppyn the ȝettis wyde,So that hys feris without the port that tydeMycht haue entryt, and cummyn in the cite,The last day of the batale that had be,And latter finale end to the remanysOf Phrigiane folkis and pepil Troianys.Bot sic ardent hie furour martyall,And of slauchter desire insaciable,Draif hym to follow thame that hym gaynstandis:And first he kyllit Phalarys with his handis,And ane other, that Gyges hecht, alssua,Of quham the howchys bath he smate in twa;Syn speris rent and hynt vp all on raw,And at the flearis bakkis fast dyd thraw,That wondir was to se hym quhar he went,For Juno ekyt hys strenth and hardyment.Syne ane Hales onto the corpsis dedIn cumpany he ekyt in that sted;And Phegeas doun brytnys in the feld,Spetit throw owt the body and hys scheld;Alchandrus syne, and the prowd Halyus,Nemonas eik, and keyn Prytanyus,Quhilkis mysknew Turnus was within the wall,And to the bargan dyd thar feris call,Apon the grund onon al ded he layd,In bargan full expert: syne dyd invaidWith schynand swerd, hard at the dykis syde,Ane Lynceus, the quhilk the sammyn tydeResistys, as he myght, with fell afferis,And eftir help cryis apon hys feris;Bot with a strake he smate hys nek in twa,Baith helm and hed flaw far the body fra.And, eftir thir, ane Amycus he slew,That bayn had beyn to wild bestis enew;Was nane other mair happy nor expertTo graith and til invnct a castyng dart,And with vennom to garnys the steil hedis.By Turnus handis the ilk tyme done to ded isEolus son, hait Clytius, the heynd,And Creteus also, was the Musys frend;Creteus, poet to Musys famyliar,That in hys mynd and breist all tymys barSangis and gestis, musyk and harpyng;Apon hys stryngis playd he mony a spryng,Lays and rymys on the best awys,And euermar hys maner and his gysWas forto syng, blason, and discryve,Men and stedis, knychthed, wer, and stryve.

CAP. XIII

The Troianys set on Turnus dyntis rude,Quhill at he fled, and lap into the flude.At last Mnestheus and strang Serestus,The Troiane capitanys, herand quhow that thusThar pepill slane war doun, dyd convene;Thar feris fleand pail and wan haue thai sene,And thar cheif ennemy closyt in thar wallys.Mnestheus on thame clepys thus and callys:Quhar ettill ȝhe to fra hyne? quhidder wald ȝhe fle?Quhat other wallys seik ȝhe, or cite?Quhar haue ȝe other strenth or forteres?O citesanys, behaldis heir expresNane bot a man standand ȝou aganys,Closyt within ȝour dykis and wallys of stanys,Onrevengit, sa gret occisiounAnd huge slauchter sal mak within ȝour tovn,Or sa feill valȝeand ȝyng capitanys kend,Onresistit, thus down to hell sall send!O maste onworthy cowartis, ful of slewth,Of ȝour onselly cuntre haue ȝhe na rewth,Nor piete of ȝour ancyent Goddis kynd?Think ȝhe na lak and schame into ȝour mynd,To do sa gret owtrage to strang Enee,In hys absens thus catyfly to fle?The Troianys by sik wordis as he saidIn curage grew, and fermly all abaid,Abowt thar faman flokkand in a rowt.Turnus a litil, thocht he was stern and stowt,Begouth frawart the bargane to withdraw,And sattil towartis the ryveris syde alaw,Ay peys and peys, to that part of the tovnWas closyt with the ryver, rynnand dovn.Troianys, that seand, the mar apertlyAssalȝeit hym with mony schowt and cry,And thikkyt fast abowt hym inveroun.As quhen abowt the awfull wild lyoun,With thar invasibill wapynnys scharp and squar,Ane multitude of men bilappyt war;And he full fers, with thrawin wlt, in the start,Seand the scharp poyntis, recullys bakwart:Bot, forto gif the bak, and fle away,Nowder hys greif nor curage suffir may;And, thocht he wald, for all hys mekill mycht,Agane samony men and wapynnys brychtTo pres fordwart may he cum na speid.Nane other wys Turnus, at sik a neid,Steppys abak with huly pays full still,Hys mynd scaldand in greif and egir will:And forthir eik amyd hys fays heTwys ruschit in, and schuddrit the melle;And twys also that onrebutit knychtEndlang the wallys put thame to the flycht.Bot al togidder, intyll ane convyne,Apon hym haill the town assemlyt syne,Nor Saturnus get, Juno, in that fyghtAgane thame durst him minister strenth nor mycht;For Jupiter had from the hevynnys fairSend dovn Iris, quhilk dwellis in the ayr,Onto hys spous and sister thar at handFul scharp chargis bryngis and command,Les than Turnus, quhou evir the chance befallis,Withdrew hym fra the fatale Troiane wallys:Quharthrow this valȝeand campioun ȝong and keynNowder with his scheild sa mekil mycht sustene,Nor sic defens mak with his hand, as ayr.With dartis at him swakkit heir and tharOn sik wys is he quhelmyt and confundyt,That euer in ane hys bos helm rang and soundyt,Clynkand abowt hys halfheddis with a dyn:Hys sovir armour, strang, and na thyng thyn,Is brokkyn and byrsyt with feill stonys cast;So thik war dyntis, and strakis smyt so fast,That of his helm down bettyn war the crestis;Sa sair the bosys of hys target prest is,Hys scheild na langar mycht sik rowtis sustene;The Troianys, with this Mnestheus, in thar teynDowblys thar dyntis at hym with speris cast,As it had bene the hydduus thundris blast.Our all hys body furth ȝet the swait thik,Lyke to the trynland blak stremys of pyk;Ne gat he laser anys hys aynd to draw:The febillit brath ful fast can beit and blawAmyd hys wery breist and lymmys lasch.Than at the last, al suddanly, with a plasch,Harnes and al togiddir, quhar he stude,Him self he swakkis and lap into the flude.With giltyn stremys hym keppyt the ryver,And bar hym vp abuf hys wallis cleir;Syne blithly careit to hys feris bedene,All blude and slauchter away was weschyn clein.

THE PROLOUG OF THE TENTH BUKE

He plasmatour of thingis vniuersall,Thou renewar of kynd, that creat all,Incomprehensibill thy warkis ar to consave,Quhilk grantyt hes to every wight to haueQuhat thing mast ganys onto hys governall.Quhou mervellus beyn divisions of thy gracis,Distribut so to ilk thing in all placis!The son to schyne our all, and schaw hys lyght,The day to laubour, for rest thou ordanyt nycht;For diuers causys schupe seir sessonys and spacis.Fresch veir to burgioun herbys and sweit flowris;The hait symmyr to nurys corn all howris,And breid all kynd of fowlys, fysch, and beste;Hervist to rendir hys frutis maste and leste;Wyntir to snyb the erth with frosty schowris.Not at thou nedyt ocht, all thyng thou wrocht,Bot to that fyne thou maid all thing of nocht,Of thy gudnes tobe participant;Thy Godhed na rychar, nor ȝit mar skant,Nowthir now nor then, set thou ws wrocht and bocht.Thy maist supreme indiuisibill substans,In ane natur thre personys, but discrepans,Regnand etern, ressauys nane accident;For quhy? thou art rycht at this tyme presentIt at thou was, and evir sal, but varians.Set our natur God hes to hym vnyte,Hys Godhed incommixt remanys perfyte,The son of God havand verray naturis twaneIn a person, and thre personys all aneIn deite, natur, maieste, and delyte.The Son the self thing with the Fader is;The self substans the Haly Gaist, I wys,Is with thame baith; thre distinct personage,Ar, war, and be sall, euer of ane age,Omnipotent, a Lord, equale in blys.Quhilk souerane substans, in gre superlatyve,Na cunnyng comprehend may nor discryve;Nowther generis, generat is, nor doith proceid,Allane begynnar of euery thing, but dreid,And in the self remanys etern on lyve.The Fader, of nane generat, creat, ne boir,Hys only Son engendris evirmor;Not makis, creatis, bot engendris all wayOf hys substans; and all tyme of baith twaProcedis the Haly Gaist, equal in glor.Of baith, from ane begynnyng, procedis he;So bene the warkis of the TriniteMaist excellent, and wondirfull to consave:Ȝit thame to traste the mair meryte we have,That be na manys rayson prevyt may thai be.The Fader knawys hym self, quhilk knawlege spredisBe generatioun etern, that evir bredisHys Son, hys word and wysdom eternall:Betwix thir twa is luf perpetuall,Quhilk is the Haly Gaist, fra baith procedis.Not at the Faderis natur mynyst is,Of hys substans he generis his Son in blys;Ne so the Son of hys kynd is ybor,That he a part hes tharof, and na mor;Bot all he gevys hys Son, and all is hys.The ilk thing he hym gevis, that he remanys:Thys syngill substans indifferently thus ganysTo thre in ane, and ilk ane of the threThe sammyn thing is in a maieste,Thocht thir personys be seuerall in thre granys.Lyke as the sawle of man is ane, we wait,Havand thre poweris distinct and separate,Vnderstandyng, rayson, and memor:Intelligens consideris the thing befor,Rayson discernys, memor kepis the consait.As thai beyn in a substans knyt all thre,Thre personys ryngnys in a Deite.We may tak als ane other simylytude,Grosly the sammyn purpos to conclud;Flame, lycht, and hait, bene in a fyre we se.Quhar euer the low is, lycht and heit bene thar;And had the fyre bene byrnand euermar,Evyr suld the flambe engendrit haue hys lyght,And of the byrnand low the flambys brychtPerpetualy suld heit haue sprung alquhar.So generis the Fader the Son with hym etern,From baith procedis the Haly Gaist coetern.Thus rude exemplys and figuris may we geif;Thocht, God by hys awin creaturis to preif,War mar onliknes than liknes to discern.Frend, farly nocht, na caus is to compleneAlbeit thy wyt gret God may nocht attene;For, mycht thou comprehend be thyne engyneThe maist excellent maieste dyvyne,He mycht be reput a pretty God and meyn.Consider thy raison is so febill and lyte,And hys knawlage profund and infynyte;Consider quhou he is onmensurabill:Hym, as he is, to knaw thou art not habill;It sufficis the beleif thy creid perfyte.God is, I grant, in all thing nocht includyt;Gevis all gudnes, and is of nocht denudyt;Of hym hes all thing part, and he nocht mynyst;Hail he is alquhar, not diuidit, ne fynyst;Without all thing he is, and nocht excludit.O Lord, thy ways beyn investigabill!Sweit Lord, thy self is sa inestimabill,I can write nocht bot wondris of thy mycht,That lawyt sa far thy maieste and hyghtTobe born man intill ane oxis stabill.Thow tuke mankynd of ane onwemmyt maid,Inclosyt within a virginis bosum glaid,Quham all the hevynnys mycht nevir comprehend;Angellis, scheiphyrdis, and kyngis thy Godheid kend,Set thou in cryb betwix twa bestis was laid.Quhat infynyte excellent hie bonteAbufe thy warkis all, in wonderfull gre!Lord, quhen thou man wrocht to thyne awyn ymage,That tynt him self throu hys fulych dotage,Thou man becam, and deit to mak hym fre.Maid thou not man first president vnder the,To dant the bestis, fowlys, and fysch in see,Subdewit to him the erth, and all tharin;Syne paradice grantit hym and all his kyn,Gave him fre will, and power nevir to dee?Enarmyt him with raison and prudence;Only bad hym kepe thyne obediens,And to hym suld all creaturis obey?Bitter was that fruyt for his ofspryng, and fey,Maid deth onknawin be fund, and lyfe go hens.O thyne inestimabill luf and cheryte!Becam a thrall to mak ws bondis fre,To quykkyn thy sclavys tholyt schamfull ded maste fell.Blissyt be thou virginal frute, that hereit hell,And pait the pryce of the forbodin tre!Thocht thou large stremys sched apon the rude,A drop had bene sufficient of thy bludeA thousand warldis to haue redemyt, I grant;Bot thou the well of mercy wald nocht skant,Ws to provoik to lufe the, and be gude.Our all this syne, thyne infynyte Godhed,Thy flesch and blude in form of wyne and bred,Tobe our fuyd of grace, in plege of glor,Thou hest ws geif, in perpetuall memorOf thy passioun and dolorus paynfull ded.Quhat thankis dew or ganȝeld, Lord benyng,May I, maist wracht synfull catyve indyng,Rendir for this souerane peirles hie bonte?Sen body, saule, and all, I haue of the,Thou art my pryce, mak me thy praye condyng.My makar, my redemar, and support,Fra quham all grace and gudnes cumis at schort,Grant me that grace my mysdedis til amend,Of this and all my warkis to mak gud end:Thus I beseik the, Lord, thus I exort.From the begynnyng and end be of my muse:All other Jove and Phebus I refus.Lat Virgill hald hys mawmentis to him self;I wirschip nowder ydoll, stok, nor elf,Thocht furth I write so as myne autour dois.Is nane bot thou, the Fader of Goddis and men,Omnipotent eternal Jove I ken;Only the, helply Fader, thar is nane other:I compt not of thir paygane Goddis a fudder,Quhais power may nocht help a haltand hen.The scripture clepys the God, of Goddis Lord;For quha thy mandat kepys in ane accordBene ane with the, not in substans, bot grace,And we our Fader the clepys in euery place:Mak ws thy sonnys in cherite, but discord.Thow haldis court our cristall hevynnys cleir,With angellis, sanctis, and hevynly spretis seir,That, but cessyng, thy glor and lovyng syngis:Manifest to the, and patent, bene all thyngis;Thy spows, and queyn maid, and thy moder deir.Concord for ever, myrth, rest, and endles blys,Na feir of hell, nor dreid of ded, thar isIn thy sweit realm, nor na kynd of ennoy,Bot all weilfair, eys, and euerlestand joy;Quhais hie plesance, Lord, lat ws neuer mys! Amen.