SPRING.
FROM THE “THISTLE AND THE ROSE.”
Quhen Merche wes with variand windis past,
And Appryll had with hir silver shouris
Tane leif at Nature, with ane orient blast,
And lusty May, that muddir is of flouris,
Had maid the birdis to begyn thair houris,
Amang the tendir odouris reid and quhyt
Quhois harmony to heir it was delyt:
In bed at morrow sleiping as I lay,
Methocht Aurora, with her crystall ene
In at the window lukit by the day,
And halsit me with visage pale and grene;
On quhois hand a lark sang, fro the splene,
“Awak, luvaris, out of your slemering,
Se how the lusty morrow dois upspring!”
Methocht fresche May befoir my bed upstude,
In weid depaynt of mony diverse hew,
Sober, benyng, and full of mansuetude,
In bright atteir of flouris forgit new,
Hevinly of color, quhyt, reid, brown, and blew,
Balmit in dew, and gilt with Phebus’ bemys;
Quhil al the house illumynit of her lemys.
William Dunbar, 1465–1530.