C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

From ‘The Golden Targe’

BRYGHT as the stern of day begouth to schyne

Quhen gone to bed war Vesper and Lucyne,

I raise, and by a rosere did me rest:

Up sprang the goldyn candill matutyne,

With clere depurit bemes cristallyne

Glading the mery foulis in thair nest;

Or Phebus was in purpur cape revest

Up raise the lark, the hevyn’s menstrale fyne

In May, in till a morrow myrthfullest.

Full angellike thir birdis sang thair houris

Within thair courtyns grene, in to thair bouris,

Apparalit quhite and red, wyth blomes suete;

Anamalit was the felde with all colouris,

The perly droppis schuke in silvir schouris;

Quhill all in balme did branch and levis flete,

To part fra Phebus did Aurora grete;

Hir cristall teris I saw hyng on the flouris

Quhilk he for lufe all drank up with his hete.

For mirth of May, wyth skippis and wyth hoppis,

The birdis sang upon the tender croppis,

With curiouse notis, as Venus chapell clerkis;

The rosis yong, new spreding of their knoppis,

War powderit brycht with hevinly beriall droppis,

Throu bemes rede, birnyng as ruby sperkis;

The skyes rang for schoutyng of the larkis.