men, nature and religion, the fashions and abuses of his epoch, with the grave, observant amiability of a true poet; he was directly in sympathy with many things; he loved to read and to laugh; it was his business to moralise and teach. It was natural that he should choose the fable as a means of expressing himself. It was fortunate as well; for his fables are perhaps the best in the language, and are worthy of consideration and regard even after La Fontaine himself.

To a modern eye his dialect is distressingly quaint and crabbed. In his hands, however, it is a right instrument, narrow in compass, it may be, but with its every note sonorous and responsive. To know the use he made of it in dialogue, he must be studied in Robyne and Makyne, the earliest English pastoral; or at such moments as that of the conversation between the widows of the Cock who has just been snatched away by the Fox; or in the incomparable Taile of the Wolf that got the Nek-Herring throw the Wrinkis of the Fox that Begylit the Cadgear, which, outside La Fontaine, I conceive to be one of the high-water marks of the modern apologue. In such poems as The Three Deid Powis, where he has anticipated a something of Hamlet at Yorick's grave, as The Abbey Walk, the Garmond of Fair Ladies, the Reasoning between Age and Youth, it is employed as a vehicle for the expression of austere thought, of quaint conceitedness, of solemn and earnest devotion, of satirical comment, with equal ease and equal success. As a specimen of classic description-as the classic appeared to the mediæval mind—I should like to quote at length his dream of Æsop. As a specimen of what may be called the choice and refined realism that informs his work, we may give a few stanzas from the prelude to his Testament of Cresseid. It was winter, he says, when he began his song, but, he adds, in despite of the cold,

"Within mine orature

I stude, when Titan with his bemis bricht

Withdrawin doun, and sylit2 undercure,

And fair Venus, the beauty of the nicht,
Uprais, and set unto the west full richt

Hir goldin face, in oppositioun
Of God Phoebus, direct discending doun.

Throwout the glass hir bemis brast so fair
That I micht se on everie side me by.

The northin wind had purifyit the air,

And sched the misty cloudis fra the sky'.
The frost freisit, the blastis bitterly

Fra Pole Artick came quhistling loud and schill,
And causit me remufe aganist my will.

I mend the fire, and beikit2 me about,

Than tuik a drink my spreitis to comfort,
And armit me weill fra the cauld thairout;

To cut the winter nicht and mak it schort,
I tuik ane Quair3, and left all uther sport,
Writtin be worthie Chaucer glorious

Of fair Cresseid and lusty Troilus.'

In this charming description Henryson, by the use of simple and natural means and by the operation of a principle of selection that is nothing if not artistic, has produced an impression that would not disgrace a poet skilled in the knacks and fashions of the most pictorial school. Indeed I confess to having read in its connection a poem that might in many ways be imitated from it (La Bonne Soirée), and to feeling and seeing more with Henryson than with Théophile Gautier.

W. E. HENLEY.

The wind had swept from the wide atmosphere,
Each vapour that obscured the sunset's ray.' Shelley.
• bustled.
• book.

THE GARMOND OF FAIR LADIES

Wald my gud Lady lufe me best,
And wirk eftir my will,
I suld ane Garmond gudliest
Gar mak hir body till.

Off hie honour suld be hir hud,
Upoun hir heid to weir,
Garneist with governance so gud,

Na demyng1 suld hir deir2.

Hir sark suld be hir body nixt,
Of chestetie so quhyt,

With schame and dreid togidder mixt,
The same suld be perfyt.

Hir kirtill suld be of clene constance,
Lasit with lesum3 lufe,

4

The mailyheis of continuance

For nevir to remufe.

Hir gown suld be of gudliness
Weill ribband with renowne,
Purfillit with plesour in ilk place,
Furrit with fyne fassoun".

Hir belt suld be of benignitie,
About hir middill meit;

Hir mantill of humilitie,

To tholl bayth wind and weit.

Hir hat suld be of fair having

Hir slevis suld be of esperance,
To keip hir fra dispair;
Hir gluvis of the gud govirnance,
To hyd hir fyngearis fair.

Hir schone1 suld be of sickernes 2,
In syne that scho nocht slyd;
Hir hoiss3 of honestie, I ges,
I suld for hir provyd.

Wald scho put on this Garmond gay,
I durst sweir by my seill1,
That scho woir nevir grene nor gray
That set 5 hir half so weill.

THE TAILL OF THE LYOUN AND THE MOUS.

Ane Lyoun at his pray wery foirrun,

To recreat his limmis and to rest,

Beikand his breist and bellie at the sone,

Under ane tree lay in the fair forrest,

Swa' come ane trip of Myis out of thair nest,
Rycht tait and trig 10, all dansand in ane gyis ",
And ouer the Lyoun lansit 1 twyis or thrys.

He lay so still, the Myis wes nocht effeird
Bot to and fro out ouer him tuke thair trace,
Sum tirlit at the campis of his beird,

13

Sum spairit nocht to claw him on the face;
Merie and glaid, thus dansit thay ane space,

Till at the last the nobill Lyoun woke,

And with his pow 14 the maister Mous he tuke.

Scho gaif ane cry, and all the laif1 agast

Thair dansing left, and hid thame sone allquhair ;
Scho that wes tane, cryit and weipit fast,

;

And said, Allace! oftymes, that scho come thair
'Now am I tane ane wofull presonair,
And for my gilt traistis incontinent,

3

Of lyfe and deith to thoill the jugement.'
Than spak the Lyoun to that cairfull' Mous,
'Thou cative wretche, and vile unworthie thing,
Ouer malapert, and eik presumpteous

Thow wes, to mak out ouer me thy tripping.
Knew thow nocht weill, I wes baith lord and king
Of Beistis all?' 'Yes,' quod the Mous. I knaw;
But I misknew, because ye lay so law.
'Lord! I beseik thy kinglie royaltie,

Heir quhat I say, and tak in pacience;
Considder first my simple povertie,

5

And syne thy mychtie hie magnificence:
See als how thingis done of negligence,
Nouther of malice nor presumptioun,
Erar suld haif grace and remissioun.
'We wir repleit, and had grit haboundance
Of alkin' thingis, sic as to us effeird 8.
The sweit sesoun provokit us to dance,

And mak sic mirth as Nature to us leird,
Ye lay so still, and law upon the eird,

That, be my saull, we wend 10 ye had bene deid,
Ellis wald we nocht haif dancit ouer your heid.'
'Thy fals excuse,' the Lyoun said agane,

'Sall nocht availl ane myte, I underta11:
I put the case, I had bene deid or slane

And syne my skyn bene stoppit 12 full of stra,
Thocht thow had found my figure lyand swa,
Because it bair the prent of my persoun,
Thow suld for feir on knees haif fallin doun.

10 thought.