GOOD COUNSAIL. truth uncertainty wealth, blind desire, benefit counsel each fortune nail earthen pitcher judge FLY fro the presse, and dwell with sothfastnesse, Thomas the Rhymer. humility forsake, spiri About 1300. THOMAS OF ERCILDOUNE, commonly called Thomas the Rhymer, lived about the year 1300, and was born at his father's patrimonial estate of Ercildoune or Earlston, now a small village in Scotland. Few personages are more renowned than he in tradition, having been, shortly after his death, placed in the highest position both as a poet and a prophet. The popular tale bears "that he was carried away to Fairyland at an early age, where he acquired the knowledge and gifts which made him so famous. After seven years' residence there he was permitted to return to earth, and astonish his countrymen by his powers and prophecies. After some time, while making merry in his Tower of Ercildoune, a person came running in and told him that a hart and hind were slowly parading the street of the village; Thomas rose, and left his house, and followed the animals to the forest, whence he never returned." INCIPIT PROPHESIA THOME DE ERSELDOUN. In a lande as I was lent, lying peeping Alas, he seyd, ful wo is me, I trow my dedes will werke me care, Whedir so euyr my body sal fare. It was as derke as at midnizt, The figge and als fylbert tre; The nyghtyngale bredyng in her neste, The throstylcock sang wald hafe no rest. That lyggs ouyr yone fayr playn ? might below ground ever dashing faint, want soon want haste lies Whan synful sawles haf derayed their payne. suffered Yonder is the way to heuyn for ay, Sees thou, Thomas, yon secund way That lygges lawe undir the ryse? Streight is the way, sothly to say, To the joyes of paradyce. rising Sees thou, Thomas, yon thyrd way, That lygges ouyr yon how? Wide is the way, sothly to say, To the brynyng fyres of helle. Sees thou, Thomas, yone fair castell, Of town and tower it beereth the belle. hollow In middell erth is none like theretill. courteous each knights dais Than was sche fayr, and ryche anone, And also ryal on hir palfreye. royal The grewhoundes had fylde thaim on the dere, deer The raches coupled, by my fay, dogs She blewe her horne Thomas to chere All that leue long day. Knyghtes dansyd by two and thre, Ladyes that were gret of gre, Sat and sang of rych aray. Thomas sawe much more in that place, Than I can descryve, Til on a day, alas, alas, My lovelye layde sayd to me, Busk ye, Thomas, you must agayn, Here you may no longer be: Hy then zerne that you were at hame, I sal ye bryng to Eldyn Tre Thomas answered with heuy And said, Lowely ladye, lat ma be, Haf I be bot the space of dayes three. Jow fiddle amidst haste |