THE CONCEPTION OF CHRIST.

Let us rejoice and sing,

And praise that michty King,

Quilk send his Sone of a Virgine bricht.
La, lay, la.

And on him tuke our vyle nature,
Our deidlie woundis to cure,
Mankynde to hald in richt.
La, lay, la.

Sanct Luk wrytis in his Gospell,
God send his Angell Gabriell
Unto that Virgine but defame.'
La, lay, la.

For to fulfill the Prophesie,
Was spousit with Josaph free,
Mary scho had to name :
La, lay, la.

Thir wordis to hir he did reheira.
Haill Mary! full of grace,

The Lord God is with thee.
La, lay, la.

Thou blyssit Virgine mylde,
Thou sall consave ane chylde,
The pepill redeme sall he.
La, lay, la.

Quhais power and greit micht,
Sall be in Goddis sicht,

Quhilk from the Father of mittis send.
La, lay, la.

Jesus his name ye call,
Quhilk sall be Prince ouir ali,
His kingdome sall have nane cad.
La, lay, la.

Than spak that Virgin fre,
Behald, how sall this be,
Seeing I knaw na man?
La, lay, la.

I Without stain.

Than said the Angell chaist,
Be the power of the Haly Gaist,
Quhilk all thing wirk he can.
La, lay, la.

Elizabeth thy cousing also,
Sex monthis with chylde can go,
At whais birth greit joy sall be.
La, lay, la.

Call him Johne, sayis the Angell bricht,
Quhilk is send be Goddis micht,
The Lordis way prepare sall he.
La, lay, la.

The first part ends with the above hymn, and a note is added as follows: Heir endis the Spirituall Sangis, and beginnis the Psalmes of David, with other new pleasand Ballattis. Transslatit out of Enchiridion Psalmorum, to be sung.

The first stanza of the following, which most closely adhere to the old song, of which it is a parody, sufficiently indicates the character of the hymns, and the tunes to which they were sung.

Quho is at my windo? quho, quho?
Go from my windo, go, go;
Quho callis thair, sa lyke a strangair?
Go from my windo, go!
Lord, I am heir, ane wretchit mortall,
That for Thy mercy dois cry and call
Unto Thee, my Lord celestiall,

So quho is at my windo, quho.

In till ane mirthfull May morning
Quhen Phebus did up spring,
Walkand I lay, in ane garding gay,
Thinkand on Christ sa fre:
Quhilk meiklie for mankynde,
Tholit to be pynde,

On croce cruellie. La, lay, la.

Johne, cum kis me now,
Johne, cum kis me now,
Johne, cum kis me by and by,
And mak no moir adow.
The Lord thy God I am,

That Johne dois thee call;
Johne represented man,

Be grace celestial,
For Johne, Goddis grace it is,
(Quha list till expone the same)
Och Johne, thou did amis,

Quhen that thou loist this naine.
Musing greitly in my mynde,
The folie that is in mankynde,
Quhilk is sa brukill and sa blind,
And downe sall cum, downe ay,
downe ay.

Downe be yone river I ran,
Downe be yone river I ran,

Thinkand on Christ sa fre
That brocht me to libertie;

And I ane sinful man.

[The air of the following is said to have been a favourite with Henry VIII. The first mention of it by a Scottish poet is by Henryson. As showing the anti-Popish spirit of the times, we give the first four stanzas.]

With huntis up, with huntis up,

It is now perfite day,
Jesus our king, gane hunting,

Quha lykis to speid thay may.
Ane cursit fox lay hid in rox,2

This lang and mony ane day, Devouring scheip, quhill he micht creip, Nane micht him schaip 3 away.

It did him gude to laip the blude
Of young and tender lammis;
Nane culd he mis for all was his,
The young anes with thair dammis.
Who chooses to ex-
2 Rocks.
pound.
3 Scare.