shore ;

At length, their penance done, are wafted o'er."

A JUNE EVENING.

Toward the even amid the summer's heat,
When in the Crab Apollo held his seat,
During the joyous moneth time of June,
As gone near was the day, and supper done,
I walked forth about the fieldis tyte,"
Whilks though replenished stood full of
delight,

With herbis, cornis, cattle and fruit trees,
Plenty of store, birdis and busy bees
In amerant meadis fleeand east and west,
After labour to take the nightis rest.
And as I blinkèd on the lift2 me by,
All burnand red gan wax the evening
sky:

The sun enfired haile, 3 as to my sight,
Whirled about his ball with beamis bright,
Declinand fast toward the north in deid;
And fiery Phlegon, his dim nightis steed
Douked his head sae deep in floodis gray
That Phoebus rolls down under hell away;

' Quickly.

ryme

Both here and there scuggis 10 and shadows

dim.

Uprose the bak" with her peeled leathern

flight;

The lark descendis from the skyis hight, Singand her compling12 song, after her

guise,

To take her rest at matin hour to rise. Out oure the swyre swymaris the sops13 of mist,

The night forth spread her cloak with sable list,

That all the beauty of the fructuous field Was with the earthis umbrage clean ourheild ;14

Both man and beast, firth, flood and woodis wild,

Involved in the shadows werein sild.'s
Still were the fowlis fleeis in the air,

I Precurser, forerider. 9 Mists. 2 Scatter.

3 Mitigate.
4 Grass blade.
5 Drops.

6 Shining beryl.

2 The sky.

10 Shades. II The bat.

12 Evening.

13 Over the valleys floats the clouds.

14 Covered, concealed. 15 Surrounded.

Quhilk causis bene, or quhat diversite,
Sum fra the brayis thame withdraw I se;
Ane uthir sott eik of thir saulis dede
Rollit ouer this ryver cullourit as the lede?

This ancient religious woman than,
But mare delay, to ansure thus began.
Anchises get! heynd childe, curtes and
gude,

Discend undoutable of the Goddis blude!
The deip stank of Cocytus dois thou se,
And eik the hellis pule hate2 Styx, quod
sche,

A sordid god down from his hoary chin A length of beard descends, uncombed, unclean.:

His eyes, like hollow furnaces on fire; A girdle, foul with grease, binds his obscene attire.

He spreads his canvas; with his pole he steers;

The freights of flitting ghosts in his thin bottom bears.

He looked in years; yet, in his years were

seen

A youthful vigour, and autumnal green.

stood,

aith:

Al thir thou seis stoppit at the schore,
Bene helples folk unerdit and forlore :3
Yone grislie feriare, to name Charon hate,4
Thay bene al beryt he caryis in his bate :
It is not til him leful, he ne may
Thame ferry ouer thir rowtand fludis gray,
Nor to the hidduous yonder coistis have,
Quhil thare banis be laid to rest in grave.
Quha ar unberyit ane hundredth yere
mon bide

maids,

And mighty heroes' more majestic shades; And youths, intombed before their father's

eyes,

With hollow groans, and shrieks, and feeble cries.

Thick as the leaves in autumn strew the woods,

Or fowls, by winter forced, forsake the floods,

lands

Such, and so thick, the shivering army stands,

And press for passage with extended hands.

Now these, now those, the surly boatman bore:

The rest he drove to distance from the shore.

The hero, who beheld with wondering eyes, The tumult mixed with shrieks, laments and cries,

Asked of his guide, what the rude concourse meant?

Why to the shore the thronging people bent?

What forms of law among the ghosts were used?

refused?

"Son of Anchises! offspring of the gods! | (The Sibyl said) you see the Stygian floods! The sacred streams which heaven's imperial state

Attests in oaths, and fears to violate.
The ghosts rejected are the unhappy crew
Reprived of sepulchres and funeral due :
The boatman, Charon: those, the buried
host,

He ferries over to the farther coast;

Nor dares his transport vessel cross the

waves

bright

Upspringis, as forridar' of the night. Amid the haughs and every lusty vale, The recent dew beginnis down to skail,2 To meys 3 the burning where the sun had shine,

Whilk though was to the nether world decline.

At every pilis point and cornis crops
The techrys5 stood, as lemand berial" drops,
And on the hailsome herbis clean, but?
weeds,

Like crystal knoppis or small silver beads.

in graves.

shore ;

At length, their penance done, are wafted o'er."

A JUNE EVENING.

Toward the even amid the summer's heat,
When in the Crab Apollo held his seat,
During the joyous moneth time of June,
As gone near was the day, and supper done,
I walked forth about the fieldis tyte,'
Whilks though replenished stood full of
delight,

With herbis, cornis, cattle and fruit trees,
Plenty of store, birdis and busy bees
In amerant meadis fleeand east and west,
After labour to take the nightis rest.
And as I blinkèd on the lift2 me by,
All burnand red gan wax the evening
sky:

The sun enfirèd haile, 3 as to my sight,
Whirled about his ball with beamis bright,
Declinand fast toward the north in deid;
And fiery Phlegon, his dim nightis steed
Douked his head sae deep in floodis gray
That Phoebus rolls down under hell away;

And shortly, everything that does repair, In firth or field, flood, forest, earth or air,

Or in the scroggis,3 or the bushes rank,
Lakes, morasses, or their poolis dank
Astabillit liggis still to sleep and restis ;
Be the small birds sittand on their nestis,
The little midges, and the unrusum 5 flies,
Laborious emmets and the busy bees;
Als weel the wild as the tame beastial,
And every other thingis great and small,
Out-tak" the merry nightingale, Philomene,
That on the thorn sat singand fro the
spleen.7

Whose mirthful notis longing for to hear
Until a garth under a green lawrer?
I walk anon and in a sege
10 down sat,
Now musand upon this, and now on that.
I see the pole, and eke the Ursus bright,
And horned Lucine castand but dim light,
Because the summer skyis shone sae clear;
Golden Venus the mistress of the year,
And gentle Jove with her participate,
Their beauteous beamis shed in blithe

estate:

That shortly, there as I was leaned down For nightis silence, and this birdis soun On sleep I slaid; where soon I saw appear Ane aged man, and said: what does thou here?

appearance is evidently suggested by Henryson's Æsop,

"Lyke to some poet of the auld fassoune," informs Douglas that he is Maphæus Vegius, who added the thirteenth book to the Eneid, and demands that it be translated with the others. The poet excuses himself on the plea of having already spent too much time on such work, to the neglect of more serious studies; yet Maphæus, not heeding this excuse, adopts the undignified method of obtaining the poet's consent by the application of

"Twenty rowtis upon my rigging laid," with which he awakes, and promises to fulfil the additional task. It being now morning, he describes it as follows :

Belive 3 on wing the busy lark upsprang To salus the blithe morrow with her sang: Soon oure the fieldis shinis the light clear, Welcome to pilgrim both and labourer :— 3 Presently.

1 Named.

10 A seat.

4 Enstabled lies.

5 Restless.

2 Notes.

Tyte on his hynis' gave the grieve a cry,

Awake on foot, go till our husbandry ; And the herd callis forth upon his page To drive the cattle to their pasturage. The hynnis wife clepis 2 up Katheryn and Gill:

Yea, dame, said they, God wait with a good will.

The dewy green, puldered with daisies gay,

Show on the sward a colour dapple gray; The misty vapours springand up full sweet, Maist comfortable to glad all mannis spreit ; 2

Thereto, thir birdis singis in the shaws, As minstrels playing, The Joly day now dawis.3

Considering that David Lindsay may be said to have been bred at court, it is very much to his credit that he is the most popular of Scotland's ancient poets; and this for pandering to the prejudices of no section of society, but for his strong common sense, manly courage, and transparent honesty. These are qualities that are never vulgar, nor common, and prevent Lindsay from being characterized as such, although it may be admitted that his poetry is of a lower order than that of Dunbar, or even of Douglas.

He was the eldest son of David Lindsay of The Mount, a small estate about three miles north of Cupar, in Fife; and, by the general opinion of his biographers, he was born there about the year 1490. Dr David Laing states that there is no positive information bearing on the date, or the place of his birth, and considers that he may, for anything known to the contrary, have been born at Garmylton, two miles from Haddington; which estate came into the

1 Quick on the hinds. 2 The hind's wife calls.

possession of his grandfather, of the same name, in 1478. It was to his mansionhouse here, that the poet, on his dismissal from court favour in 1524, retired; and here he commenced his literary career. This estate, now called Garelton, formed part of the barony of Byres, and with it passed into the possession of the Earl of Wemyss, in 1724, having previously (in 1586) passed out of the possession of the Lindsays.

Little or nothing is known of his boyhood and early training; and the first notice that in all probability refers to him, is the name “Da. Lindesay," in the register of incorporated students, at St Andrews University, for 1508-9. Three years' attendance being necessary to incorporation, his entrance upon his course would take place in 1505, when he would be about fifteen years old. The name "Da. Betone," the future Cardinal of tragic memory, follows next on the register. There is nothing to