Classic Poem

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Laude, honor, prasingis, thankis infynite
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To the, and thi dulce ornate fresch endite,
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Mast reverend Virgill, of Latyne poetis prince,
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Gemme of ingine and fluide of eloquence,
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Thow peirles perle, patroun of poetrie,
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Rois, register, palme, laurer, and glory,
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Chosin cherbukle, cheif flour and cedir tree,
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Lanterne, leidsterne, mirrour, and a per se,
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Master of masteris, sweit sours and springand well,
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Wyde quhar our all ringis thi hevinle bell:
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I mene thi crafty werkis curious,
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Sa quik, lusty, and mast sentencious,
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Plesable, perfyte, and felable in all degre,
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As quha the mater held to foir thar ee;
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In every volume quhilk the list do write,
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Surmonting fer all uther maneir endite,
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Lyk as the rois in June with hir sueit smell
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The marygulde or dasy doith excell.
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Quhy suld I than, with dull forhede and vane,
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With ruide engine and barrand emptive brane,
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With bad harsk speche and lewit barbour tong,
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Presume to write quhar thi sueit bell is rong,
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Or contirfait sa precious wourdis deir?
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Na, na, nocht sua, bot knele quhen I thame heir.
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For quhat compair betuix midday and nycht,
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Or quhat compare betuix myrknes and lycht,
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Or quhat compare is betuix blak and quhyte,
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Far gretar diference betuix my blunt endyte
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And thi scharp sugurat sang Virgiliane,
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Sa wyslie wrocht with nevir ane word in vane;
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My waverand wit, my cunnyng feble at all,
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My mynd mysty, thir ma nocht myss ane fall.
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Stra for this ignorant blabring imperfyte
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Beside thi polyte termis redemyte;
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And no the les with support and correctioun,
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For naturall luife and freindfull affectioun
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Quhilkis I beir to thi werkis and endyte,
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Althocht, God wait, I knaw tharin full lyte,
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And that thi facund sentence mycht be song
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In our langage als weill as Latyne tong--
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Alswele, na, na, impossible war,per de,
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Yit with your leif, Virgill, to follow the,
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I wald into my rurale vulgar gros,
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Write sum savoring of thi Eneados.
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Bot sair I drede for to distene the quyte,
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Throu my corruptit cadens imperfyte;
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Distene the, na forsuith, that ma I nocht,
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Weill ma I schaw my burell busteous thocht;
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Bot thi work sall enduire in laude and glory,
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Bot spot or falt, conding eterne memory.
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Thocht I offend, onhermit is thine fame,
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Thyne is the thank, and myne sal be the shame.

...

THE FIRST BUIK OF ENEADOSCAP. XII
Eneas first excusis him, and syne
Addressis to rehers Troys rwyne.

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Thai ceissit all at anis incontinent,
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With mowthis clois, and visage takand tent.
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Prince Eneas, frome the hie bed, with that,
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Into his seige riall quhar he sat,
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Begouth and said: Thi desyir, lady, is
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Renewing of ontellable sorow, I wis,
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To schaw how Grekis did spuilye and destroy
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The greit riches and lamentable realm of Troy,
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And huge misery quhilk I thair beheld,
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Quharof myself ane greit part bair and feld;
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Quhat Marmidon, or Gregion Dolopes,
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Or knycht wageor to cruell Ulixes,
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Sic materes to rehers, or yit to heir,
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Mycht thaime contene fra weping mony ane teir?
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And now the hevin ourquhelmis the donk nycht,
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Quhen the declining of the sternis brycht
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To sleip and rest perswades our appetite;
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But sen thou hes sic plesour and delite
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To knaw our chance, and fall of Troy in weir,
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And schortlie the last end thairof wald heir,
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Albeit my spreit abhorris, and doth grise
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Thairon for to ramembir, and oft sise
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Murnand eschewis thairfra with greit diseis,
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Yit than I sall begyne yow for to pleis.

Finis Libri Primi.