Alexander Montgomerie

Sonnet 5. To the Same (To M. Dauid Drummond)

The hevinly furie that inspyrd my spreit,
Quhen sacred beughis war wont my brouis to bind,
With frostis of fashrie frozen is that heet ;
My garland grene is withrit with the wind.

Je knau Occasio hes no hair behind ;
The bravest spreits hes tryde it treu, I trou ;
The long forspoken proverb true I find,
“No man is man,” and man is no thing nou.

The cuccou flees befor the turtle dou ;
The pratling pyet matchis with the Musis;
Pan with Apollo playis, I wot not hou ;
The attircops Minervas office vsis.

These be the grievis that garris Montgomry gr[udge]
That Mydas, not Mecenas, is our judge.