The Minor Poems of Lyndesay

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Early English Text Society, 1871 - 53 Seiten
 

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Seite xlix - Orisoun, Nocht understandyng quhat thay syng nor say. Bot lyke one Stirlyng or ane Papingay, Quhilk leirnit ar to speik be lang usage : Thame I compair to byrdis in ane cage.
Seite iii - ... Oxford University ENGLISH FACULTY LIBRARY Manor Road, Oxford OX1 3UQ Telephone: (01865) 271050 Full term...
Seite xxviii - Allegory, a disease of the middle ages infecting most poets down to the end of the 1 6th century, was rife in our old Scotch verse, much of which is cast on the model of The Romaunt of the Rose and The Flower and the Leaf. In The Golden Targe the influence of those works is conspicuous, though much of the imitation is indirect, through The King's Quair. Like the royal minstrel, the poet represents himself as being roused from his slumbers by the morning, and led to the bank of a stream where presently...
Seite xxxvi - Quhow, as ane chapman beris his pak, I bure thy Grace upon my bak, And sumtymes, strydlingis on my nek, Dansand with mony bend and bek. The first sillabis that thow did mute Was PA, DA LYN, upon the lute Than playit I twenty spryngis, perqueir, Quhilk wes gret piete for to heir.
Seite xlviii - The fiend ane plack was left for to defend him. Thus they postponed me twa year...
Seite xlviii - MARRY, I lent my gossip my mare, to fetch hame coals, And he her drounit into the quarry holes; And I ran to the consistory, for to pleinyie, And there I happenit amang ane greedie meinyie.
Seite 7 - Redd1e preparit , for the vpsetting, With Fontanis flowing, watter cleir and wyne, Disagysit folkis, lyke Creaturis deuyne. On ilk scaffold, to play ane syndrie storie, Bot all in greiting, turnit thow that glorie.
Seite xlvi - Distroyit was, quhat nedeith proces more ? Nocht be the vertew of Inglis ordinance Bot, be his awin wylfull mysgovernance. FROM 'ANE SATYRE OF THE THREI ESTAITIS.' Veritie. For our Christ's saik, I am richt weill content To suffer all thing that sall pleis his grace, Howbeit, ye put ane thousand till torment, Ten hundreth thowsand sall ryse into thair place. [Veritie sits down on hir knies and sayis:] Yet up, thow slepis all too lang, O Lord, And mak sum ressonabill reformatioun, On thame that dois...

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