Rough Scan
BOOK XVIII - DIVINE PHILOSOPHY



239 - RORATE CELI DESUPER

RORATE celi desuper!
=Heavens distil your balmy schouris,
For now is risen the bricht day ster
=Fro the rose Mary, flour of flouris;
=The clear Sin, whom no clud devouris,
Surmounting Phoebus in the east,
=Is comen of his heavenly touris;
Et nobis Puer natus est.

Archangellis, angellis, and dompnationis,
=Tronis, potestatis, and martyris seir,
And all ye heavenly operationis,
=Ster, planet, firmament, and sphere,
=Fire, erd, air, and water clear,
To him gife loving, most and lest,
=That come in-to so meek manner;
Et nobis Puer natus est.

Sinneris be glaid and penance do,
=And thank your Maker hairtfully;
For he that ye micht nocht come to,
=To you is comen full humly,
=Your saulis with his blude to buy,
And louse you of the Fiendis arrest,
=And only of his awn mercy;
Pro nobis Puer natus est.

All clergy do to him incline,
=And bow unto that bairn bening,
And do your observance divine
=To him that is of kingis King;
=Ensence his altar, read, and sing
In haly kirk, with mind degest,
=Him honouring attour all thing,
Qui nobis Puer natus est.

Celestial fowlis in the air,
=Sing with your notis upon hicht;
In firthis and in forestis fair
=Be mirthful now, at all your micht,
=For passit is your dully nicht;
Aurora has the cludis pierc'd,
=The sun is risen with glaidsome licht,
Et nobis Puer natus est.

Now spring up flouris fra the root,
=Revert you upward naturally,
In honour of the blissit fruit
=That raise up fro the rose Mary;
=Lay out your leaves lustily,
Fro dede tak life now at the lest
=In worship of that Prince worthy,
Qui nobis Puer natus est.

Sing heaven imperiall, most of hicht.
=Regions of air mak harmony;
All fish in flood and fowl of flicht,
=Be mirthful and mak melody;
=All GLORIA IN EXCELSIS cry,
Heaven, erd, sea, man, bird, and beast,
=He that is crownit abune the sky
Pro nobis Puer natus est.

=======_William Dunbar_.



240 - THE SOUL TO ITS REDEEMER

ALL my Lufe, leif me not,
=Leif me not, leif me not!
All my lufe, leif me not,
=Thus myne alone;
With ane burden on my back,
I may not beir if I am sa waik,
Lufe, this burden from me tak,
=Or ellis I am gone.

With sinnis I am ladin soir,
=Leif me not, leif me not.
With sinnis I am ladin soir,
=Leif me not alone!
I pray thee, Lord, thairfoir,
Keip not my sinnis in stoir,
Lowse me, or I be forloir,
=And hear my mone.

With thy handis thou hes me wrocht,
=Leif me not, leif me not!
With thy handis thou hes me wrocht,
=Leif me not alone!
I was sauld, and thou me bocht,
With thy blude thou hes me coft,
Now am I hidder socht
=To thee, Lord, alone.

I cry and I call to thee
=To leif me not, to leif me not,
I cry and I call to thee
=To leif me not alone.
All they that laden be,
Thou biddis thame come to thee;
Then sall they savit be
=Throw thy mercy alone....

Faith, Hope, and Charitie,
Leif me not, leif me not!
Faith, Hope, and Charitie,
=Leif me not alone!
I pray thee, Lord, grant me
Thir godly giftis thrie,
Then sall I savit be,
=Dout have I none....



241 - ANE BALLAT OF OUR LADY

HAIL, sterne superne!  Hail, in eterne,
=In Godis sicht to shyne!
Lucerne in derne, for to discerne
=By glory and grace devyne;
Hodiern, modern, sempitern,
=Angelicall regyne!
Our tern inferne for to dispern
=Help rialest rosyne.
==_Ave Maria, gratia plena!_
=Hail, fresh flower femynyne!
Yerne us, guberne, virgin matern,
=Of reuth baith rute and ryne.

Hail, young, benyng, fresh flurising!
=Hail, Alphais habitakie!
The dyng ofspring made us to syng
=Before his tabernakle;
All thing maling we doun thring
=Be sicht of his signakle;
Whilk king us bring unto his ryng
=Fro Dethe's derk umbrakle.
==_Ave Maria, gratia plena!_
=Hail, moder and maid but makle!
Bricht sign, gladyng our languissing,
=Be micht of the mirakle.

Hail, bricht be sicht, in Hevyn on hicht,
=Hail, day sterne orientale!
Our licht most richt, in clud of nycht,
=Our dirknes for to scale:
Hail, wicht in sicht, putter to flicht
=Of fendis in battale!
Hail plicht, but sicht, hail mekle of mycht!
=Hail, glorious Virgin, hail!
==_Ave Maria, gratia plena!_
=Hail, gentill nychttingale!
Way stricht, cler dicht to wilsome wicht,
=That irke bene in travale.

Hail, queen serene!  Hail, most amene!
=Hail, Hevinlie his empryss!
Hail schene, unseyne with carnal eyne,
=Hail, rose of paradyss!
Hail, clene, bedene, ay till conteyne!
=Hail, fair fresh flour-de-lyce!
Hail, grene daseyne!  Hail, fro the splene
=Of Jesu genetrice!
==_Ave Maria, gratia plena!_
=Thou bair the prince of pryss;
Our teyne to meyne, and ga betweyne,
=Ane hevinle oratrice.

Hail, more decore than of before,
=And swetar be sic sevyne,
Our glore forlore for to restore,
=Sen thou art quene of hevyne!
Memore of sore, stern in Aurore,
=Lovit with angellis stevyne,
Implore, adore, thou indeflore,
=To mak our oddis evyne.
==_Ave Maria, gratia plena!_
=With lovingis loud ellevyn,
Whyll store and hore my youth devore
=Thy name I sall ay nevyne.

Empryce of pryss, imperatrice,
=Brycht polist precious stane;
Victryce of vyce, hie genetrice
=Of Jesu, lord soverayne:
Our wyss pavysse fra enemyss,
=Agayne the Feindis trayne;
Oratrice, mediatrice, salvatrice,
=To God gret suffragane!
==_Ave Maria, gratia plena!_
=Hail, stern meridiane!
Spyce, flour-de-lice of paradyse,
=That bair the gloryuss grayne.

Imperiall wall, place palestrall,
=Or peirless pulcritud;
Tryumphale hall, hie tour royal
=Of Godis celsitud;
Hospital riall, the lord of all
=Thy closet did include;
Bricht ball cristall rose virginall
=Fulfillit of angell fude!
==_Ave Maria, gratia plena!_
=Thy birth has with his blude
Fra fall mortall originall
=Us raunsound on the rude.

=======_William Dunbar_.



242 - THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD

I'M a puir man, I grant,
But I am weel neiboured;
And nane shall me daunt,
Though a puir man, I grant;
For I shall not want-
The Lord is my Shepherd!
I'm a puir man I grant,
But I am weel neiboured!

=======_George Macdonald_.



243 - IN FORMA PAUPERIS

WHO is at my windo?  Who, who?
Go from my windo, go, go!
Who callis thair, sa lyke a strangeir?
=Go from my windo, go!

Lord, I am hair, ane wretchit mortall,
That for thy mercy dois cry and call
Unto the, my lord celestiall.
=Se who is at my windo, who?...

With richt humbill hart, lord, the I pray,
Thy comfort and grace obtain I may:
Schew me the path and reddy way
=In at thy dure for to go...

Lord, I pray the with all my hart,
Of thy greit mercy remuve my smart,
Let ane drop of thy grace be my part,
=That in at thy dure I may go...

Remember thy sin, and als thy smart,
And als for the what was my part:
Remember the speir that thirlit my hart,
=And in at my dure thou sall go...

I ask na thing of the thairfoir,
But lufe for lufe, to lay in stoir:
Gif me thy hart, I ask no moir,
=And in at my dure thow sall go...

Who is at my windo?  Who?
Go from my windo, go!
Cry na mair thair, lyke ane stranger
=But in at my dure thow go.



244 - THE ABBAY WALK

ALONE as I went up and doun
=In ane Abbay was fair to se,
Thinkand what consolatioun
=Was best into adversitie;
On caiss I kest on side mine e'e,
=And saw this written upoun a wall:
"Of what estate, Man, that thou be,
=Obey and thank thy God of all."

Thy kingdom and thy grit empire,
=Thy ryaltie, nor rich array,
Sall nocht endure at thy desire,
=Bot, as the wind, will wend away;
Thy gold, and all thy gudis gay,
=When fortoun list will fra thee fall:
Sen thou sic sampillis seis ilk day,
=Obey, and thank thy God of all.

Job was moist rich, in Writ we find,
=Thobč moist full of cheritie,
Job waxed pure, and Thobč blind,
=Baith tempit with adversitie.
Sen blindness wes infirmitie,
=And poverty wes natural;
Rycht patiently baith he and he
=Obeyit, and thankit God of all.

Thoch thou be blind, or haif ane halt,
=Or in thy face deformit ill,
Sa it cum nocht through thy default,
=Na man suld thee repreif by skill,
Blame nocht thy Lord, sa is his will;
=Spurn nocht thy foot aganis the wall:
Bot with meik hairt and prayer still
=Obey, and thank thy God of all.

God of his justice maun correct,
=And of his mercy pitie haif;
He is ane Judge, to nane suspect,
=To puneis sinful man and saif.
Thoch thou be lord attour the laif,
=And eftirwart made bound and thrall,
Ane pure beggar, with skrip and staiff:
=Obey, and thank thy God of all.

This changeing and grit variance
=Off erdly staitis up and doun
Is nocht bot casualty and chance,
=Sa some men sayis, without ressoun,
Bot be the grit provisioun
=Of God aboif that rewll thee sall;
Thairfoir ever thou mak thee boun
=To obey, and thank thy God of all.

In wealth be meik, heich not thyself;
=Be glaid in wilful povertie;
Thy power and thy warldis pelf
=Is nocht but very vanitie.
Remember him that deit on tree,
=For thy sake taistit the bitter gall,
Wha heis law hairtis, and lawis he:
=Obey, and thank thy God of all.

=======_Robert Henryson_.



245 - THE MERLE AND THE NIGHTINGALE

IN May as that Aurora did upspring,
=With cristall ene chasing the cluddis sable,
I herd a merle with mirry notis sing
=A sang of lufe, with voice rycht confortable,
=Agane the orient bemis amiable,
Upone a blisful brench of lawryr grene;
=This wes hir sentens sweit and delectable,
A lusty lyfe in luvis service bene.

Undir this brench ran doun a revir bricht,
=Of balmy liquour, cristallyne of hew,
Agane the hevinly aisur skyis licht,
=Whair did, upone the othair syd, persew
=A nychtingall, with sugarit notis new,
Whois angell fetheris as the peacok schone;
=This wes hir song, and of a sentens trew,
All luve is lost bot upone God allone.

With notis glaid and glorious harmony,
=This joyfull merle so salust scho the day,
Whill rong the wooddis of hir melody,
=Saying, "Awake, ye luvaris, O, this May.
=Lo, fresche Flora hes flurest every spray,
As natur hes hir taucht, the noble quene,
=The feild bene clothit in a new array;
A lusty lyfe in luvis service bene.

Nevir sweter noys wes hard with levand man,
=Na maid this mirry gentill nychtingaill,
Hir sound went with the revir as it ran,
=Outthrow the fresche and flureist lusty vaill.
="O merle," quod scho, "O fule, stynt of thy taill,
For in thy song gud sentens is thair none,
=For boith is tynt the tyme and the travaill
Of every luve bot upone God allone."

"Seiss," quod the merle, "thy preching, nychtingale.
=Sall folk thair yewth spend in-to holiness?
Of yung sanctis growis auld feyndis but fable;
=Fy, ypocreit, in yeiris tendirness,
=Agane the law of kynd thow gois express,
That crukit aige makis one with yewth serene,
=Whome natur of conditionis maid dyverss:
A lusly life in luvis service bene."

The nychtingaill said, "Fule, remembir the,
=That both in yewth and eild, and every hour,
The luve of God most deir to man suld be,
=That him of nocht wrocht lyk his awin figour,
=And deit him self fro deid him to succour.
O, whithir wes kythit thair trew lufe or none?
=He is most trew and steidfast paramour;
All luve is lost bot upone him allone."

The merle said, "Why put God so grit bewty
=In ladeis, with sic womanly having,
Bot gife he wald that thay suld luvit be?
=To luve eik natur gaif thame inclynnyng
=And He, of natur that wirker wes and king.
Wald no thing frustir put, nor lat be sene,
=In to his creature of his awin making:
A lusty lyfe in luvis service bene."

The nychtingall said, "Nocht to that behufe
=Put God sic bewty in a ladeis face,
That scho suld haif the thanks thairfoir or lufe,
=Bot He, the wirker, that put in hir sic grace,
=Off bewty, bontie, richess, tyme or space.
And every gudness that bene to cum or gone;
=The thanks redoundis to him in every place;
All luve is lost bot upone God allone."

"O nychtingall, it wer a story nyce,
=That luve suld nocht depend on cherite,
And gife that vertew contrair be to vyce,
=Then luve mon be a vertew, as thinkis me;
=For ay to lufe envy maun contrair be:
God bad eik lufe thy nychtbour fro the splene,
=And who than ladeis sweter nychbouris be?
A lusty lyfe in luvis service bene."

The nychtingaill said, "Bird, why dois thow raif?
=Man may tak in his lady sic delyt,
Him to forget that hir sic vertew gaif,
=And for his hevin rassaif hir cullour whyt;
=Hir goldin tressit hairis redomyt,
Lyk to Appollois bemis thoch thay schone,
=Suld nocht him blind fro lufe that is perfyt;
All lufe is lost bot upone God allone."

The merle said, "Lufe is causs of honour ay,
=Luve makis cowardis manheid to purchass,
Luve makis knychtis hardy at assey,
=Luve makis wrechis full of lergeness,
=Luve makis sueir folkis full of bissiness,
Luve makis sluggirdis fresche and weill besene,
=Luve changis vyce in vertewis nobilnoss;
A lusty lyfe in luvis service bene."

The nychtingaill said, "Trew is the contrary;
=Sic frustir luve, it blindis men so far,
In-to thair myndis it makis thame to vary;
=In fals vane glory thai so drunkin ar,
=Thair wit is went, of wo thai ar nocht war,
Whill that all wirchip away be fro thame gone,
=Fame, guddis and strenth; whairfoir weill say I dar,
All luve is lost bot upone God allone."

Than said the merle, "Myn errour I confess;
=This frustir luve all is bot vanite;
Blind ignorance me gaif sic hardiness,
=To argone so agane the verite;
=Whairfoir I counsall every man, that he
With lufe nocht in the feindis net be tone,
=Bot luve the luve that did for his lufe dee;
All lufe is lost bot upone God allone."

Than sang they both with voicis lowd and cleir;
=The merle sang, "Man, lufe God that hes the wrocht;"
The nychtingall sang, "Man, lufe the Lord most deir,
=That the and all this warld maid of nocht."
=The merle said, "Luve him that thy lufe hes socht
Fra hevin to erd, and heir tuk flesche and bone:"
=The nychtingall sang, "And with his deid the bocht;
All lufe is lost bot upone him allone."

Thane flaw thir birdis our the bewis schene,
=Singing of lufe amang the levis small,
Whois ythand pleid yit maid my thochtis grene,
=Bothe sleping, walking, in rest and in travall;
=Me to reconfort most it dois awaill
Agane for lufe, when lufe I can find none,
=To think how sang this merle and nychtingaill,
All lufe is lost bot upone God alone.

=======_William Dunbar_.