To Wastegood take and bear need that I leave; To Covetous syne give this bliss of fire To Vaunt and Voky4 ye bear this rowm5 slieve, THE PALACE OF HONOUR. ["King Hart," as the shorter of Douglas's original compositionssimpler in structure, and the product of his matured powers-has been given Of the "Palace of Honour,' entire. his earliest work, an unaltered specimen, with Mr Tytler's critical estimate and modern renderings, and Dr Irving's analysis, will give a sufficient idea of the poem.] "The Palace of Honour' cannot lay claim either to a high moral tendency or to much unity of composition and effect. It is, on the contrary, confused in its arrangement, often obscure in its transitions, and crowded with persons and scenery of all ages and countries, heaped together "in most admired disorder;" Bid them therein that they take their hire. down, For he has left his master in the mire, And would not draw him out though he should drown. CXX. ladies, groups of Pagan sages and Christian heroes, populous cities and silent solitudes, succeed so rapidly, that we lose ourselves in the profusion of its actors and the unconnected but brilliant variety of its scenery. Yet it Foolhardiness, bear him this broken is justly characterized as exhibiting, in many places, an exuberant fancy and an extraordinary extent of learning for the age in which it was written. The learning, indeed, is rather ambitiously intruded in many parts, communicating a coldness and tedium to the narrative, and betraying an anxiety in the author to display at once the whole extent of his stores; whilst making every allowance for the obscurities, which are occasioned by a purer Scottish dialect, it is impossible not to feel that the poetry is inferior in genius to Dunbar. There is not that masterly clearness of outline and brilliancy of colouring in his grand groups-that power of keeping under all minor details-the perspective of descriptive poetry, which is necessary for the production of a strong and uniform effect. All is too much of equal size, crowded into the foreground; and the author loses his purpose in the indiscriminate prominence of his details. Yet there are many charming passages. In the month of May, the poet, as is usual with his tuneful brethren of these olden times, rises early, before dawn, and wanders into a garden of pleasance and delight. Aurora, with her countenance sweet yet pale, and her mantle bordered with sable, had not yet unclosed the curtains of the couch within which lay Flora, the goddess of flowers, but a delicious fragrance was breathed from its flowery carpet, and a rich melodious song burst from the groves around it :—” Unaltered Specimen. The daisy and the mariguld unlappit, Quhilks all the nicht lay with their levis happit, Thame to preserve fra rewmes pungitive, Be golden bemis vivificative; Quhais amenè heit is maist restorative ; The grèshopperis amangis the vergers gnappit, And beis wrocht material for their hyve. Richt hailsome was the sessoun of the Phoebus furth yet depured bemis cleir, God Eolus of wind list nocht appeir ; By bonkis grene with glancis variant. [Modernized by Tytler.] In broider'd beds unnumber'd flowers were seen, And, hid within their leafy curtains green, such The fragrant flouris blomand in the irseis, Quhill that I rowmed in that paradyce, harmony, As fill'd my very heart with joy and glee ; near, The silver dewdrops shone, like diamonds, Whilst in this paradise my senses fed, Of Titan-which by night looks dark and With spreit arraisit, and every wit away, dead, But changeth in the morn to ruby red; Whilst birds, and fields, and flowers, on holm and hight, New life assume in glittering vests bedight. The daisy sweet, the marigold and rose, That all the night their silken buds did close, Lesticy rimes their tender twigs should sear, Expanded fragrant; and, as Titan rose, Each ancient tree his greeny glories shows. Emerging joyous from the darkness drear, All living things the kindly warmth did cheer; Quaking for fear both pulse and vein and nervis. Upon this he very sensibly determines to go home, but is suddenly arrested on his road by an extraordinary incident, which he thus describes : Forth from the skies a sudden light did That threw me into ecstasy or swoon; The idle grasshoppers both chirpt and Silent my voice, and dizzied grew my sight; play'd, The sweet laborious bees melodious music made. Sans motion, breath, or hearing, tranced I stood Was never seen so weak a living wight. Delightful was the season, May's first Nor was it strange, for such celestial light hour, The glorious sun uprising in his power, Bathed with a kindly heat all growing things, Nor boisterous Eolus, with blast and shower, Nor Saturn, with his aspect sad and sour, Dar'd in that place unfurl his icy wings, But sweet Favonius thither fragrance brings, And little streams, half hid in moss, do run, Making a pleasant chime, and glancing in the sun. Encircled with these varied delights, the poet desires anxiously to pour forth a strain worthy of the occasion, to Nature queen, and eke to lusty May; when, for what reason he fails to inform us, his faculties become weak, and he is seized with a trembling which incapacitates him Confounds the brain, and chases back the blood Unto the sinking heart in ruby flood: And the faint members of the body, all Refuse to work-when terror doth appal. 'Twere hard to tell how long the fit did last ; At length my colour came, though sore aghast, And a wild wondrous vision met mine ee. Finding himself in this doleful region (I follow Dr Irving's analysis of the "Palace of Honour")—he begins to complain of the iniquity of Fortune; but his attention is soon attracted by the arri val of a magnificent cavalcade "of ladies fair, and guidlie men," who pass before him in bright and glorious procession. Having gone by, two caitiffs approach, one mounted on an ass, the other on a hideous horse, who are discovered to be the arch-traitors Sinon and Achitophel. From Sinon the poet learns that the brilliant assembly whom he has just beheld is the court of Minerva, who are journeying through this wild solitude to the Palace of Honour. He not unnaturally asks how such villains were permitted to attend upon the goddess, and receives for answer, that they appear there on the same principle that we sometimes find thunder and tornadoes intruding themselves into the lovely and placid month of May. The merry horns of hunters are now heard in the wood, and a lovely goddess is seen surrounded by buskined nymphs, mounted upon an elephant, cheering on her hounds after an unhappy stag, who proves to be Actæon, pursued by Diana and his own dogs. Melodious music succeeds to this stirring scene, and through an opening in the forest the court of Venus approaches, shedding a transcendent brightness over the groves, and composed of every hero and heroine of classical and romantic story. The description of Mars upon his barded stout and bald," is noble : courser And she her knight him call'd in woe or weal, Whilst o'er his noble form her love-lit glances steal. This brave apparition is scarcely past, when it is succeeded by the court of Minerva, composed of "wise, eloquent fathers, and pleasant ladies of fresh beauty," all of them directing their course to the Palace of Honour, and cheering the tedium of the journey by rehearsing Greek and Latin histories, and chanting to their lyre sapphic and elegiac odes. We regret it is impossible to follow them in their progress; but some of the insulated pictures are beautiful. The poet mounts a gallant steed, caparisoned with woodbine; and, under the guidance of a sweet nymph to whom he had been introduced by Calliope, he takes his joyous way with the Muses, and at length arrives at the Castalian fount : Beside that fount, with clearest crystal blest, Alighted down the Muses, bright of hue, Themselves to solace and their steeds to rest; And all their followers on the instant drew To taste the stream, which sparkling leapt to view, Thro' freshest meads with laurel canopied. Then trembling to the well renown'd I flew, But the rude crowd all passage there defied, Nor might I snatch a drop of that celestial tide. Our horses pastured in a pleasant field, Verdant and rich, beneath a mountain green, Where, from the mid-day heat a shade to yield, Some ancient cedars wove a leafy screen; On the smooth turf unnumber'd flowers were seen On many an instrument of breath or These gentle ladies play'd or playing sung recreate them with a song; and this favoured minstrel chants the deeds of the heroes of ancient days, not forgetting a digression upon transfigurations and the art and remedy of love. He is followed by other eminent bards; but the enumeration forms rather a ludicrous catalogue than a characteristic or animated picture. It is wound up by Poggius, who stood, a groaning, girning fallow, And wooed their music with intense de- Spitting, and cryand, Fy, on great light; Whilst from their charms such dazzling rays were flung, As utterly amazed all mortal sight, And might have thaw'd the heart of sternest anchorite. Laurentius Valla. The trumpet now sounds to horse, and the Muses, with their whole attendants and followers, throwing themselves on their steeds, gallop on at a goodly pace till they reach a charming valley, Far doth it pass all powers of living wherein a mighty rock is seen, which speech, To tell the joy that from these sighs I took; And if so high the wondrous theme doth reach, How should my vein the great endea- We may not soar so high, my little book; Obeying his sweet conductress, Master Gavin enters this rich pavilion, and there sees the Muses sitting on "deissis," or elevated seats of distinction, served by familiars with ippocras and mead, and partaking, much in the same fashion as mortal ladies, of delicate meats and varied dainties. After the feast, Calliope commands Ovid, whom she quaintly calls her "Clerk Register," to we immediately discover to be some sacred and glorious place, for the moment it is descried the whole assembly bow their heads and give thanks that they are permitted to behold the end of their journey. It is here that the allegory, in its profane admixture of the Pagan mythology with the Christian system, becomes unnatural and painful. We find that the palace built upon this rock is intended to shadow forth the bliss of heaven; and that under the word Honour, which, to our modern ears, conveys a very different idea, we are to understand that heavenly honour and distinction to which the Christian aspires. On entering the Palace of Honour, the poet beholds Venus seated on a splendid throne, having before her a magic mirror, supported by three golden trees : |