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I see therefore to shape my death

She cruelly is prest;
To th’ende that I may want my breath :

My dayes been at the best.


O Cupide, graunt this my request,

And do not stoppe thine eares ; That she may feele within her brest

The paines of my dispaires :

Of Corin who' is carelesle,

That she may crave her fee: As I have done in great distresse,

That loved her faithfully,


But since that I shal die her slave;

Her slave, and eke her thrall:
Write you, my frendes, upon my grave

This chaunce that is befall,


" Here lieth unhappy Harpalus

By cruell love now flaine: “ Whom Phylida unjustly thus “ Hath murdred with disdaine.”






The palm of pastoral poesy is here contested by a cotemporary writer with the author of the foregoing. The critics will judge of their respective merits; but must make fome allowance for the preceding ballad, which is given simply, as it stands in the old editions: whereas this, which follows, has been revised and amended throughout by ALLAN RAMSEY, from whose EVER-Green, Vol. I.

is here chiefly printed. The curious Reader may

however compare

it with the more original copy, printed among

« Ancient Scottish Poems, from the MS. of George Bannatyne, 1568, Edinb. 1770, 12mo.

Mr. Robert HENRYSON (to whom we are indebted for this Poem) appears to so much advanlage among the writers of eclogue, that we are forry we can give little other account of him besides what is contained in the following eloge, written by W. Dunbar, a Scottish poet, who lived about the middle of the 16th century:

In Dumferling, he Death] hath tane Broun,

With gude Mr, Robert Henryfon.Indeed some fittle further inhght into the history of this Scottish bard is gained from the title prefixed to some of his poems preserved in the British Museum; viz. "The morall * Fabillis of Efop compylit be Maister ROBERT Henri“SOUN, SCOLMAISTER of Dumfermling, 1571." Harleian MSS. 3865. $1.

In Ramsay's EVERGREEN, Vol. I. whence the above distich is extracted, are preserved two other little Doric pieces by Henryson; the one intitled The LYON AND THE MOUSE; the other, THE GARMENT OF GUDE LADYIS. Some other of his Poems may be seen in the Ancient Scottish Poems * printed from Bannatyne's MS." above referred to.


OBIN fat on the gude grene hill,

Keipand a flock of fie,
Quhen mirry Makyne said him till,

" o Robin rew on me:
“ I haif thee luive baith loud and still,

« Thir towmonds twa or thre;
“My dule in dern bot gif thou dill,

6 Doubtless but dreid Ill die."


Robin replied, Now by the rude,

Naithing of luve I knaw,
But keip my sheip undir yon wod:

Lo quhair they raik on raw.
Quhat can have mart thee in thy mude,

Thou Makyne to me fchaw;
Or quhat is luve, or to be lude ?

Fain wald I leir that law.


“ The law of luve gin thou wald leir,

66 Tak thair an A, B, C;
“ Be heynd, courtas, and fair of feir,

• Wyse, hardy, kind and frie,
Sae that nae danger do the deir,

Quhat dule in dern thou drie;
" Press ay to pleis, and blyth appeir,
. Be patient and privie."

Ver. 19. Bannatyne's MS. reads as above, heynd, not keynd, as in şbe Edinb. edit. 1770. Ver. 21. So that no danger. Bannatyne's MS.


Robin, he answert her againe,

I wat not quhat is love ; But I haif marvel in certaine

Quhat makes thee thus wanrufe.
The wediler is fair, and I am fain ;

My sheep gais hail abuve;
And lould we pley us on the plain,

They' wald us baith repruve.



“ Robin, tak tent, unto my tale,

6 And wirk all as I reid; " And thou fall haif my heart all hale, “ Eik and


maiden-heid : “ Sep God, he fendis bute for bale,

“ And for murning remeid, " I'dern with thee bot gif I dale,

“ Doubtless I am but deid."

Makyne, to-morn be this ilk tyde,

will meit me heir,
Maybe my sheip may gang belyde,

Qlihyle we have liggd full neir;
But maugre haif 1, gif I byde,

Frae thay begin to fteir,
Quhat lyes on heart I will nocht hyd,

Then Makyne mak gude cheir,


“ Robin, thou reivs me of my rest;

“ I luve bot thee alane." Makyne, adieu! the sun goes west,

The day is neir-hand gane.


“ Robin,

“Robin, in dule I am so drest,
6 That luve will be


bane." Makyn, gae luve quhair-eir ye lift,

For leman I luid nane.

. 55

“Robin, I stand in fic a style,

“ I sich and that full fair."
Makyne, I have bene here this quyle ;

At hame I wish I were.
“Robin, my hinny, talk and smyle,

" Gif thou will do nae mair."
Makyne, fom other man beguyle,

For hameward I will fare.



Syne Robin on his ways he went,

As light as leif on tree;
But Niakyne murnt and made lament,

Scho trow'd him neir to see.
Robin he brayd attow re the bent :
Then Makyne cried on hie,

may thou fing, for I am fhent !
Quhat ailis luve at me?


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i Makyne went hame withouten fail,

And weirylie could weip;
Then Robin in a full fair dale

Affeinblir all his Theip.
Be that some part of Makyne's ail,

Out-throw his heart could creip;
Hir fast he followt to affail,

And till her tuke gude keip.

80 Abyd,

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