Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/95

 Or I my love let slip out of mine entire heart, So deep reposèd in my breast is she for her desart! For many blessèd gifts, O happy, happy land! Where Mars and Pallas strive to make their glory most to stand! Yet, land, more is thy bliss that, in this cruel age, A Venus' imp thou hast brought forth, so steadfast and so sage. Among the Muses Nine a tenth if Jove would make, And to the Graces Three a fourth, her would Apollo take. Let some for honour hunt, and hoard the massy gold: With her so I may live and die, my weal cannot be told.

ALEXANDER SCOTT

1520?-158-

43. A Bequest of His Heart

Hence, heart, with her that must depart, And hald thee with thy soverane! For I had liever want ane heart. Nor have the heart that dois me pain. Therefore, go, with thy luve remain, And let me leif thus unmolest; And see that thou come not again, But bide with her thou luvis best.

Sen she that I have servit lang Is to depart so suddenly, Address thee now, for thou sall gang And bear thy lady company.

43. hald] keep. sen] since.