Then sang they both with voices loud and clear,

The Merle sang, Man, love God that has thee wrought.'
The Nightingale sang, 'Man, love the Lord most dear,
That thee and all this world made of nought.'

The Merle said, 'Love him that thy love has sought
From heaven to earth, and here took flesh and bone.'
The Nightingale sang, And with his death thee bought:
All love is lost but upon him alone.'

Then flew these birds over the boughis sheen,
Singing of love among the leavës small;

Whose eidant plead yet made my thoughtis grein,1
Both sleeping, waking, in rest and in travail:
Me to recomfort most it does avail,

Again for love, when love I can find none,
To think how sung this Merle and Nightingale;
'All love is lost but upon God alone.'

GAVIN DOUGLAS.

THIS eminent prelate was a younger son of Archibald, the fifth Earl of Angus. He was born in Brechin about the year 1474. He studied at the University of Paris. He became a churchman, and yet united with attention to the duties of his calling great proficiency in polite learning. In 1513 he finished a translation, into Scottish verse, of Virgil's 'Æneid,' which, considering the age, is an extraordinary performance. It occupied him only sixteen months. The multitude of obsolete terms, however, in which it abounds, renders it now, as a whole, illegible. After passing through various subordinate offices, such as the 'Provostship' of St Giles's, Edinburgh, and the ‘Abbotship' of Arbroath, he was at length appointed Bishop of Dun

1 'Whose eidant plead yet made my thoughtis grein:' whose close disputation made my thoughts yearn.

keld. Dunkeld was not then the paradise it has become, but Birnam hill and the other mountains then, as now, stood round about it, the old Cathedral rose up in mediæval majesty, and the broad, smooth Tay flowed onward to the ocean. And, doubtless, Douglas felt the poetic inspiration from it quite as warmly as did Thomas Brown, when, three centuries afterwards, he set up the staff of his summer rest at the beautiful Invar inn, and thence delighted to diverge to the hundred scenes of enchantment which stretch around. The good Bishop was an ardent politician as well as a poet, and was driven, by his share in the troubles of the times, to flee from his native land, and take refuge in the Court of Henry VIII. The King received him kindly, and treated him with much liberality. In 1522 he died at London of the plague, and was interred in the Savoy Church. He was, according to Buchanan, about to proceed to Rome to vindicate himself before the Pope against certain charges brought by his enemies. Besides the translation of the Æneid,' Douglas is the author of a long poem entitled the 'Palace of Honour;' it is an allegory, describing a large company making a pilgrimage to Honour's Palace. It bears considerable resemblance to the 'Pilgrim's Progress,' and some suppose that Bunyan had seen it before composing his allegory. King Hart' is another production of our poet's, of considerable length and merit. It gives, metaphorically, a view of human life. Perhaps his best pieces are his 'Prologues,' affixed to each book of the 'Eneid.' From them we have selected 'Morning in May' as a specimen. The closing lines are fine.

'Welcome the lord of light, and lamp of day,
Welcome fosterer of tender herbis green,
Welcome quickener of flourish'd flowers sheen,

Welcome support of every root and vein,

Welcome comfort of all kind fruit and grain,' &c.

Douglas must not be named with Dunbar in strength and grandeur of genius. His power is more in expression than in conception, and hence he has shone so much in translation. His version of the 'Eneid' is the first made of any classic into a British tongue, and is the worthy progenitor of such minor miracles of poetical talent—all somewhat more mechanical than

inspired, and yet giving a real, though subordinate glory to our literature-as Fairfax's 'Tasso,' Dryden's 'Virgil,' and Pope's, Cowper's, and Sotheby's Homer.' The fire in Douglas'

original verses is occasionally lost in smoke, and the meaning buried in flowery verbiage. Still he was an honour alike to the Episcopal bench and the Muse of Scotland. He was of amiable manners, gentle temperament, and a noble and commanding appearance.

4

MORNING IN MAY.

As fresh Aurore, to mighty Tithon spouse,
Ished of1 her saffron bed and ivor' house,
In cram'sy clad and grained violate,
With sanguine cape, and selvage purpurate,
Unshet2 the windows of her largë hall,
Spread all with roses, and full of balm royal,
And eke the heavenly portis crystalline
Unwarps broad, the world to illumine;

The twinkling streamers of the orient

Shed purpour spraings,3 with gold and azure ment;4
Eous, the steed, with ruby harness red,

Above the seas liftis forth his head,

Of colour sore,5 and somedeal brown as berry,
For to alighten and glad our hemispery;
The flame out-bursten at the neisthirls,6
So fast Phaeton with the whip him whirls.
While shortly, with the blazing torch of day,
Abulyit in his lemands fresh array,
Forth of his palace royal ished Phoebus,
With golden crown and visage glorious,
Crisp hairs, bright as chrysolite or topaz;
For whose hue might none behold his face.

1 'Ished of:' issued from.-2 'Unshet:' opened.-3 'Spraings:' streaks.— 'Ment:' mingled.-5 'Sore:' yellowish brown.-.6 Neisthirls:' nostrils.7'Abulyit:' attired.-8 Lemand:' glittering.

The aureate vanes of his throne soverain
With glittering glance o'erspread the oceane;
The large floodës, lemand all of light,
But with one blink of his supernal sight.
For to behold, it was a glore to see
The stabled windis, and the calmed sea,
The soft season, the firmament serene,
The loune 1 illuminate air and firth amene.
And lusty Flora did her bloomis spread
Under the feet of Phoebus' sulyart2 steed;
The swarded soil embrode with selcouth3 hues,
Wood and forest, obumbratë with bews.4
Towers, turrets, kirnals,5 and pinnacles high,
Of kirks, castles, and ilk fair city,

*

*

Stood painted, every fane, phiol, and stage,7
Upon the plain ground by their own umbrage.
Of Æolus' north blasts having no dreid,
The soil spread her broad bosom on-breid;
The corn crops and the beir new-braird
With gladsome garment revesting the yerd.8 *
The prai9 besprent with springing sprouts disperse
For caller humours 10 on the dewy night
Rendering some place the gersë-piles" their light;
As far as cattle the lang summer's day
Had in their pasture eat and nip away;
And blissful blossoms in the bloomed yerd,
Submit their heads to the young sun's safeguard.
Ivy-leaves rank o'erspread the barmkin wall;
The bloomed hawthorn clad his pikis all;

Forth of fresh bourgeons 12 the wine grapes ying 13

*

4 Bews:'

1 'Loune:' calm.-2 Sulyart:' sultry.-3 'Selcouth:' uncommon.boughs. 5 Kirnals:' battlements.-6 'Phiol:' cupola.-7 Stage:' storey.8 'Yerd:' earth.-9 'Prai:' meadow.-10 Caller humours:' cool vapours.11 'Gerse:' grass.-12 Bourgeons:' sprouts.-13 Ying:' young.

Endlong the trellis did on twistis hing;
The loukit buttons on the gemmed trees
O'erspreading leaves of nature's tapestries;
Soft grassy verdure after balmy showers,
On curling stalkis smiling to their flowers.
The daisy did on-breid her crownal small,
And every flower unlapped in the dale.
Sere downis small on dentilion sprang,

*

The young green bloomed strawberry leaves amang;
Jimp jeryflowers thereon leaves unshet,
Fresh primrose and the purpour violet;
Heavenly lilies, with lockerand toppis white,
Open'd and shew their crestis redemite.
A paradise it seemed to draw near

These galyard gardens and each green herbere.
Most amiable wax the emerald meads;

Swarmis soughis throughout the respand reeds,
Over the lochis and the floodis gray,

Searching by kind a place where they should lay.
Phoebus' red fowl,1 his cural crest can steer,
Oft stretching forth his heckle, crowing clear.
Amid the wortis and the rootis gent
Picking his meat in alleys where he went,
His wives Toppa and Partolet him by—
A bird all-time that hauntis bigamy.
The painted powne2 pacing with plumës gym,
Cast up his tail a proud pleasand wheel-rim,
Yshrouded in his feathering bright and sheen,
Shaping the print of Argus' hundred een.
Among the bowis of the olive twists,
Seres small fowls, working crafty nests,
Endlong the hedges thick, and on rank aiks1

1 'Red fowl:' the cock.-2 Powne:' the peacock.-3'Sere:' many.-'Aiks:"

oaks.