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destined in a moment to put an end to all his doubts, and to enlist him a happy captive in her service. He accidentally casts his eyes from the latticed window of his tower upon the garden below, and there beholds a youthful lady of such exquisite loveliness, that never till that instant had he seen or imagined any human thing so beautiful. It was the Lady Jane Beaufort coming forth to her morning orisons: • And therewith kest I down mine eye ageyne,

Quhare, as I sawe walking under the toure, Full secretly, new comyn her to pleyne',

The fairest or the freschest zounge flower,

That e'er I sawe, methought, before that hour;
For which sudden abate, anon astert 3
The blood of all my body to my

heart. And tho' I stood abaysit there a lite",

No wonder was; for why?-my wittis all Were so o'ercome with plesauce and delyte,

Only thro' lettin of mine eyen fall,

That sodenly my heart became her thrall For ever, of free will; for of menace

There was no token seen in her sweet face.' Thus slightly modernised : • Then as it hapt, mine eyes I cast below,

And there I spied, beneath my prison tower, Telling her beads, in walking to and fro,

The fairest and the freshest youthful flower,

That ever I beheld, before that hour; Entranced I gazed, and, with the sudden start,

Rushed instant all my blood into my heart. Awhile I stood abased, and speechless quite;

Nor wonder was; for why ?-iny senses all Were so o'ercome with pleasure and delight, Only with letting thus my eyes to fall,

i to petition; to make her morning orisons. abate ; siuking down.

3 started.
* a little.

s pride.


That instantly mine heart became her thrall For ever, of free will; for nought was seen

But gentleness in her soft looks serene. In the Prince's situation, says an excellent critic, viewing from his prison window the beautiful Jane walking below in the palace garden, he could not with propriety or verisimilitude have given a minute description of her features ; but he describes the sweetness of her countenance, untinctured by the slightest expression of pride or haughtiness; her beauty, health, and blooming youth, and the sudden and irresistible passion with which these had inspired him * He paints also her rich attire; and the picture is not only a charming piece of highly-finished poetry, but interesting as bringing before us the female costume of the time: Of her array the form gif I shall wryte,

Toward her golden hair and rich attire, In fretwise couchet with the perles white,

And great balas, lemyng like to the fire,

With many an emerant and fair saphire;
And on her head a chaplet fresch of hue
Of plumys parted, red and white and blue.
Full of the quakyng spangis bright as gold,

Forged of shape like to the amorettys 3,
So new, so fresh, so pleasant to behold;

The plumys eke like to the power jonettes,

And other of shape like to the flower jonquettes ; 5
And above all this there was, well I wot,
Beauty enow to make a world to dote.

Tytler's Poetical Remains of James I. p. 80.

? covered with a net, or fretwork of pearls. balas, a precious stone of the ruby kind, from Balassia

in India. 3 love knots. 4 unknown.. 5 jonquils.

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About her neck, white as the fine amaille",

A goodly chain of small orfeverye, Quhareby there hung a ruby without faille ,

Like to ane herte schapen, verily,

That as a spark of lowe * so wantonly
Semyt byrning upon her quhite throte;
Now gif there was gude pertye, God it wote :
And for to walk that fresche Mayis morrowe,

Ane huke5 she had upon her tissue white,
That goodlier had not bene seen to forowe,

As I suppose--and girte she was alyte

Thus halflyng loose for haste, to suich delyte
It was to see her youth in gudelihed,
That for rudeness to speak thereof I drede.
In her was zouth, beauty, with humble port,

Bountee, richesse, and womanly feature,
God better wote than can my pen report ;

Wisdom, largesse, estate and cunning sure,

In every poynt so guided her mesure
In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance,
That Nature might no more her child advance.
Throw which anon I knew and understood

Wele that she was a wardly creature,
On whom to rest myne eyen, so mich gude

It did my woful hert; I zow assure

That it was to me joy without mesure ; Aud at the last my look unto the Hevin

I threw forthwith, and said thir verses seven. It is not difficult, giving almost line for line, to present the English reader with a transcript of these sweet verses Write I of her array and rich attire,

A net of pearl enclosed her tresses round, Wherein a Balas flamed as bright as fire,

And midst the golden curls, an emerant bound,

Painted with greeny light the flowery ground. Upon her head a chaplet, fresh of hue, Of plumes divided, red and white and blue. i enamel. goldsmith's work. 3 without flaw.


o worldly.

4 fire.

5 clasp

Which, waving, showed their spangles carved in gold,

Formed by nice art like amorous love-knots all ; Glancing most bright, and pleasant to behold,

Aud shaped like that sweet flower, that on the wall

Grows fragrant, which young lovers jonquil call;
Yet still above all this, she had, I wote,
Beauty enough to make a world to dote.
About her neck, that whiter was than snow,

She wore a chain of rich orfeverye ;
Where pendant hung a ruby, formed I trow

Like to a heart-so seemed its shape to me;

Which bright as spark of fire danced wantonly
Whene'er she moved, upon her throat so white,
That I did wish myself that jewel bright.
Early astir to taste the morn of May,

Her robe was loosely o'er her shoulders thrown,
Half open as in haste, yet maidenly,

And clasped, but slightly, with a beauteous zone,

Through which a world of such sweet youthhead shone, That it did move in me intense delight, Most beauteous-yet whereof I may not write. In her did beauty, youth, and bounty dwell,

A virgin port and features feminine;
Far better than my feeble pen can tell

Did meek-eyed wisdom in her gestures shine;

She seemed perfay—a thing almost divine
In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance,
That Nature could no more her child advance.

We pass over the address to Venus, but the lines which succeed are too beautiful to be omitted : Quhen I with gude intent this orison

Thus endit had, I stynt a lytil stound', And eft mine eye full pitously adoun

I kest, behalding there hir lyttill hound,

That with his bellis playit on the ground; Then wold I say, and sigh therewith a lyte, Ah wele were him that now were in thy plytes. ! staid a little while,

3 collar or chain.


An other quhyle the lytill nightingale

That sat upon the twiggis wold I chide,
And say richt thus,-Quhare are thy notis small

That thou of love hast sung this morowe tyde ?

Sees thou not her that sittis thee besyde, For Venus' sake the blissful goddesse clere, Sing on agane and make my ladye chere.

The feelings of the lover, who envies the little dog that wears the chains of his mistress and plays around her with his bells, and his expostulation with the nightingale, who is silent when she to whom she should pour her sweetest melody was sitting near her, are conceived in the sweetest vein of poetry. But to the delight of seeing his mistress succeeds train of melancholy reflection on his miserable fate as a prisoner, cut off from all hope of intercourse or acquaintance. The thought overwhelms him with distress; he sits in his solitary chamber, till the golden sun had sunk in the west,

Bidding farewell to every leaf and power. Then · Hesperus gan light his lamp on high ;' and as sorrow and darkness deepen around him, he leans his head on the cold stone, and, overcome with weariness and languor, falls into a dreamy sleep. Suddenly a bright ray of light pierces his lattice, illuminating the whole apartment; a gentle voice addresses him in words of comfort and encouragement, and he finds himself lifted into the air, and conveyed in a cloud of crystal to the sphere of Venus :Methought that thus all sodeynly a lycht

In at the window came quhareat i lent,
Of which the chamber window schone full brycht,

And all my bodye so it hath o’erwent,

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