Sonnet 13. In Praise of the Kings Vranie. IV As bright Apollo staineth euiry star With goldin rayis, vhen he begins to ryse, Quhais glorious glance jit stoutly skaillis the sk[yis,] Quhen with a wink we wonder vhair they war ; Befor his face for feir they faid so far, And vanishis auay in such a wayis, That in thair spheirs thay dar not interpryse For to appeir lyk planeits, as they ar : Or as the phœnix, with her fedrum fair, Excels all foulis in diverse hevinly heuis, Quhais natur, contrare natur, sho reneuis. As onlie but companione or compair : So, quintessenst of kings ! vhen thou compyle, Thou stanis my versis with thy staitly style. |
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