The Makars

The Makars

Ogg, John

I sing o' Robert Henryson
An' Gavin Douglas tee
Also o' William Dunbar
Wha wis sae bold an' free.
The makars wha in former times
Brocht oor Scotland fame
Wha wi their lyrics an' their rhymes
Gaed poetry a hame.

First is Robert Henryson
The flooer o' them aa
Wha sang o' knichts an' husbandmen
An' beasties great an' smaa.
He sang o' paddocks, mice, an' men
The tod, the wolf, the lion
He scrievt o' swallow an' o' hen
An' the Virgin's Annunciation.

Douglas scrievt o' noblemen
An' hoo tae live wi honour,
Wi music, myth an' acumen
An', glory be upon her,
Wi Venus goddess o' a loo
The Muses in her court
Nymphs an' goodly makars too
Wi men o' high report.

I sing you o' the great Dunbar
The migraine gaed him bother
O poetry the shinin star
Wha compares wi nae other;
Priest an' courtier, makar bold
Wha scrievit o' the Fower Last Things,
Wha judgement, death, hell an' heaven told
An' for the death o' makars sings.






If we draw close, as weel we may,
We may hear the makar say:
Timor mortis conturbat me.
These makars sang o' loo an' hate,
The makars wha mak Scotland great,
Wha gied us inklins o'oor fate;
Praise them ere it is ower lat