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_.