Now dancing merry, now like to dee,
Timor mortis conturbat me.
"No state on earth here stands sicker,
As with the wind waves the wicker,
So waves this world's vanity,
Timor mortis conturbat me."
As the following is pronounced to be one of the finest stanzas Dunbar ever penned, it is interesting as illustrating what is, in Mr. Smeaton's opinion, the best work of this rival of Chaucer and Spenser:—
"Have mercy, love, have mercy, lady bright;
What have I wrought against your womankeid,
That you should murder me a sackless wight,