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THE GHOST OF CREUSA.

[From The Aeneid.]

How Eneas socht his spous, all the cost,
And how to him apperis hir grete gost.

To Priamus palice eftir socht I than,
An syne onto the temple fast I ran :

Quhar, at the porchis or closter of Juno,

Than all bot waist, thocht it was girth1, stude tho
Phenix and dour Vlixes, wardanes tway,
For to observe and keip the spreith 2 or pray:
Thiddir in ane heip was gaderit precius geir,
Riches of Troy, and wther jewellis seir3
Reft from all partis; and, of templis brynt,
Of massy gold the veschale war furth hynt
From the goddis, and goldin tabillis all,
With precius vestmentis of spuilze triumphall:
The 3ing childring, and frayit matrounis eik,
Stude all on raw, with mony peteous screik
About the tresour quhymperand woundir sair.
And I also my self so bald wox thair,

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That I durst schaw my voce in the dirk nycht,
And cleip and cry fast throw the stretis on hycht
Full dolorouslie, Creusa! Creusa !

Agane, feil sise', in vane I callit swa,

Throw howsis and the citie quhar I 3oid,

19;

But outhir rest or resoun, as I war woid 10

Quhill that the figour of Creusa and gost,
Of far mair statur than air quhen scho was lost,
Before me, catife, hir seikand, apperit thair.
Abaisit I wolx, and widdersyns start my hair,
Speik mycht I nocht, the voce in my hals sa stak.
Than 13 sche, belife, on this wise to

though it was a sanctuary.

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me spak,

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11 in (wider-sinns) contrary fashion.

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With sic wourdis my thochtis to assuage:
O my suete spous, into sa furious raige
Quhat helpis thus thi selfin to turment?
This chance is nocht, but goddis willis went1;
Nor it is nocht [a] lefull thing, quod sche,
Fra hyne Creuse thou turs away with the,
Nor the hie governour of the hevin abufe is
Will suffir it so to be; bot the behufis
From thens to wend full far into exile,

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And our the braid see saile full mony a myle,
Or thou cum to the land Hesperia,

Quhar, with soft cours, Tybris of Lidia

Rynnis throw the riche feildis of peple stout.

Thair is grete substaunce ordanit the, but dowt,

Thair sall thou haue ane realme, thair sall thou ryng3,
And wed to spous the dochtir of a kyng.
Thy weping and thi teris do away,
Quhilk thou makis for thi luifit Crewsay:
For I, the nece of mychty Dardanus,
And guide dochtir vnto the blissit Venus,
Of Mirmidonis the realme sall neuir behald,
Nor it the land of Dolopes so bald,
Nor go to serve na matroun Gregioun ;
Bot the grete moder of goddis ilk one

In thir cuntreis withhaldis me for evir.
Adew, fair weile, for ay we man dissevir!

Thou be guide frend, luif wele, and keip fra skaith
Our a 3ong sone, is comoun till ws3 baith,

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Quhen this was spokin, away fra me she glaid,
Left me weping and feil wordis wald haue said:
For sche sa lichtlie wanyst in the air,
That with myne armes thrise I pressit thair
About the hals hir for to haue bilappit,

And thryse all wais my handis togiddir clappit;
The figour fled as lycht wynd, or son beyme,
Or mast liklie a waverand sweving or dreyme.

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DIDO'S HUNTING.

[From The Aeneid.]

Quhou that the Quene to hunteyn raid at morow,
And of the first day of hyr joy and sorow.
Furth of the see, with this, the dawing' springis.
As Phebus rais, fast to the 3ettis 2 thringis
The chois galandis, and huntmen thaim besyde,
With ralis and with nettis strang and wyde,
And hunting speris stif with hedis braid;
From Massylyne horsmen thik thiddir raid,
With rynning hundis, a full hugë sort.
Noblis of Cartage, hovand3 at the port,
The quene awatis that lang in chalmer dwellis :
Hir fers steid stude stamping, reddy ellis,
Rungeand the fomy goldin bitt jingling;
Of goldin pall wrocht his riche harnissing;
And scho, at last, of palice ischit out,
With huge menze' walking hir about,
Lappit in ane brusit mantill of Sydony,
With gold and perle the bordour all bewry,
Hingand by hir syde the cais with arrowis ground;
Hir brycht tressis envolupit war and wound
Intill a kuafe' of fyne gold wyrin threid;
The goldin buttoun claspit hir purpour weid,
And furth scho passit with all hir company :
The Troiane peple forgadderit, by and by
Joly and glaid the fresche Ascanius 3ing.
Bot first of all, most gudlie, hym self thar king,
Enee gan entir in falloschip, but dout,

' dawn

And vnto thaim adionyt9 his large rowt.
Lyk quhen Apollo list depart or ga

Furth of his wintring realm of Lisia,

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And leif the flude Exanthus for a quhile,
To vesy1 Delos his moderis land and ile,
Renewand ringis and dancis, mony a rowt;
Mixt togiddir, his altaris standing abowt,
The peple of Crete, and thaim of Driopes,
And eik the payntit folkis Agathirces,

Schowtand on ther gise with clamour and vocis hie;
Apon thi top, mont Cynthus, walkis he,

His wavand haris, sum tyme, doing down thring?
With a soft garland of lawrere sweit smelling,
And wmquhile thaim gan balmyng and anoynt,
And into gold addres, at full gude poynt3;
His grundin dartis clattering by his syde.

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Als fresch, als lusty did Eneas ryde;
With als gret bewtie in his lordlie face.

SLEEP.

[From The Aeneid.]

Quhat sorow dreis queyne Dido all the nycht,
And quhow Mercuir bad Enee tak the flycht.

The nycht followis, and euery wery wicht
Throw out the erd has caucht anone richt
The sound plesand slepe thame likit best;
Woddis and rageand seis war at rest;
And the sternis thar myd cours rollis down;
All feyldis still, but othir noyis or sown;
And bestis and birdis of diuers culloris seir",
And quhatsumevir in the braid lochis weir,
Or amang buskis harsk leyndis3 ondir the spray,
Throw nichtis silence slepit quhar thai lay,
Mesing ther besy thocht and curis smart,
All irksum laubour forzet and out of hart.
Bot the onrestles fey 10 spreit did nocht so
Of this wnhappy Phenician Dido:

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For neuir mair may scho sleip a wynk,
Nor nychtis rest in ene nor breist lat synk:
The hevy thochtis multiplyis euir onane1;
Strang luif begynis to rage and ryse agane,
And felloun stormis of ire gan hir to schaik :
Thus fynaly scho out bradis2, alaik!
Rolling allane sere thingis in hir thocht

SPRING.

[From the Prologue to the Aeneid, Bk. v.]

Glad is the ground of the tender florist grene,
Birdis the bewis and thir schawis3 schene,
The wery hunter to fynd his happy✦ pray,
The falconer the riche riveir our to flene3,
The clerk reiosis his buikis our to seyne,
The luiffar to behald his lady gay,

3oung folk thaim schurtis with gam, solace, and play;
Quhat maist delytis or likis every wycht,

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Therto steris thar curage day or nycht.

Knychtis delytis to assay sterand3 stedis,

Wantoun gallandis to traill in sumptuus wedis ;
Ladeis desyris to behald and be sene;

Quha wald be thrifty courteouris sais few credis ;
Sum plesance takis in romanis that he redis,
And sum has lust to that was never sene :
How mony hedis als feil consatis9 bene;
Tua appetitis vneith 10 accordis with vther;
This likis the, perchance, and nocht thi brodir.
Plesance and joy rycht halesum and perfyte is,
So that the wys therof in prouerb writis,
Ane blyth spreit makis greyn and flurist age.
Myn author eik in Bucolikis enditis,

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