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which have laid unknown and unobserv'd from their MANNER of publication; feveral of them having been printed by themselves, and so perished as it were for want of bulk, and others loft amid the rubbish of collections injudiciously made, and perhaps not eafily to be met with. Nor will it be improper to mention, that in order to render our volume ftill more complete, we have had the favour of fome original poems, written by a late member of the university of Aberdeen, whose modefty would not permit us to print his name and from thefe ingenious effays, the public may be enabled to form fome judgment beforehand of a poem of a nobler and more important nature, which he is now preparing. Nor must we forget to return our public thanks to this gentleman, for the service he has been to us, not only in making this collection more excellent by his own contributions, but in selecting fuch pieces of others as were fuitable to our design.

:

It is hoped that the ancient Scottish poems (amongst which THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE, and HARDYKNUTE are more particularly distinguished) will make no difagreeable figure among thofe of modern date; and that they will produce the fame effect here, as Mr. Pope obferves a moderate use of old words may have in a poem ; which (adds he) is like working old abbey-ftones into a modern building, and which I have fometimes feen practifed with good fuccefs.

Upon the whole, as we have been favour'd with the beft affiftance in compiling this volnme, no further apology is neceffary; and as the approbation of the public has been already fecured to these poems separately, we hope they have no lefs reafon to claim it when thus published together.

MARGARET

DAUGHTER TO

HENRY VII. OF ENGLAND,

QUEEN TO

JAMES IV. KING OF SCOTS.

BY WILLIAM DUNBAR.

The THISTLE and the ROSE,
O'er flowers and herbage green,

By Lady Nature chofe,

Brave King and lovely Queen.

I.

HEN March with varying winds was overpast,

WHE

And sweet April had with his filver showers Ta'n leave of Nature, with an orient blast, And lufty May, that mother is of flowers, Had made the birds begin by tymous hours; Among the tender odours red and white, Whose harmony to her was great delight. B

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