Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. I. Early Poetry: Chaucer to Donne

Gawain Douglas (c. 1474–1522)

Extracts from The Palice of Honour: A Ballade in Commendation of Honour

O HIE honour, sweit heuinlie flour degest,

Gem verteous, maist precious, gudliest.

For hie renoun thow art guerdoun conding,

Of worschip kend the glorious end and rest,

But quhome in richt na worthie wicht may lest.

Thy greit puissance may maist auance all thing,

And pouerall to mekill auaill sone bring.

I the require sen thow but peir art best,

That efter this in thy hie blis we ring.

Of grace thy face in euerie place sa schynis,

That sweit all spreit baith heid and feit inclynis,

Thy gloir afoir for till imploir remeid.

He docht richt nocht, quhilk out of thocht the tynis;

Thy name but blame, and royal fame diuine is;

Thow port at schort of our comfort and reid,

Till bring all thing till glaiding efter deid,

All wicht but sicht of thy greit micht ay crynis,

O schene I mene, nane may sustene thy feid.

Haill rois maist chois till clois thy fois greit micht,

Haill stone quhilk schone vpon the throne of licht,

Vertew, quhais trew sweit dew ouirthrew al vice,

Was ay ilk day gar say the way of licht;

Amend, offend, and send our end ay richt.

Thow stant, ordant as sanct, of grant maist wise,

Till be supplie, and the hie gre of price.

Delite the tite me quite of site to dicht,

For I apply schortlie to thy deuise.