The Annunciation
Forcy
as
deith
is
likand
lufe
Throuch
quhom
al
bittir
swet
is.
Nothing
is
hard,
as
writ
can
pruf,
Till
him
in
lufe
that
letis.
Luf
us
fra
barret
betis
Quhen
fra
the
hevinly
sete
abufe
In
message
Gabriell
couth
muf
And
with
myld
Mary
metis
And
said,
“God
wele
thee
gretis.
In
thee
he
will
tak
rest
and
rufe
But
hurt
of
syn
or
yit
reprufe.
In
him
sett
thi
decret
is.”
This
message
mervale
gert
that
myld
And
silence
held
but
soundis
As
weill
aferit
a
maid
infild.
The
angell
it
expoundis,
How
that
hir
wame
but
woundis
Consave
it
suld,
fra
syn
exild,
And
quhen
this
carpin
wes
compilit,
Brichtnes
fra
bufe
aboundis.
Than
fell
that
gay
to
groundis,
Of
Goddis
grace
na
thing
begild,
Wox
in
hir
chaumer
chaist
with
child,
With
Crist
our
kyng
that
cround
is.
Thir
tithingis
tauld,
the
messinger
Till
hevin
agane
he
glidis.
That
princes
pure
withoutyn
peir
Full
plesandly
applid
is
And
blith
with
barne
abidis.
O
wirthy
wirschip
singuler
To
be
moder
and
madyn
meir
As
Cristin
faith
confidis,
That
borne
was
of
hir
sidis
Our
makar,
Goddis
sone
so
deir,
Quhilk
erd,
wattir,
and
hevinnis
cleir
Throw
grace
and
virtu
gidis.
The
miraclis
ar
mekle
and
meit
Fra
luffis
ryver
rynnis.
The
low
of
luf
haldand
the
hete
Unbrynt
full
blithlie
brinnis.
Quhen
Gabriell
beginnis
With
mouth
that
gudely
may
to
grete,
The
wand
of
Aaron,
dry,
but
wete,
To
burioun
nocht
blynnis.
The
flesch
all
donk
within
is,
Upon
the
erd
na
drop
couth
fleit.
Sa
was
that
may
maid
moder
swete
And
sakeles
of
all
synnis.
Hir
mervalus
haill
madinhede
God
in
hir
bosum
bracis
And
his
divinité
fra
dreid
Hir
kepit
in
all
casis.
The
hie
God
of
his
gracis
Himself
dispisit
us
to
speid
And
dowtit
nocht
to
dee
on
deid.
He
panit
for
our
peacis
And
with
his
blude
us
bacis
Bot
quhen
he
ras
up,
as
we
rede,
The
cherité
of
his
godhede
Was
plane
in
every
placis.
O
lady
lele
and
lusumest,
Thy
face
moist
fair
and
schene
is.
O
blosum
blith
and
bowsumest
Fra
carnale
cryme
that
clene
is,
This
prayer
fra
my
splene
is
That
all
my
werkis
wikkitest
Thow
put
away
and
make
me
chaist,
Fra
Termigant
that
teyn
is
And
fra
his
cluke
that
kene
is,
And
syn
till
hevin
my
saule
thou
haist
Quhair
thi
makar
of
michtis
mast
Is
kyng
and
thow
thair
quene
is.
Robert Henryson
RoBERT HENRYSON, thc charming fabulist, Chaucer's aptest and brightest schoiar, aimost nothing is known. David Laing conjectures him to have been born about 1425, to have been educated at some foreign university, and to have died towards the ciosing years of the fifteenth century. It is certain that in 1462, being then * in Artibus Liceniiatus et in Decretis Bacchaiarius,' he was incorporated of the University of Glasgow; and that he was afterwards schooimaster in Dunferraline, and worked there as a notary-pubiic aiso.