The Aeneid (excerpts)

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    Laude, honor, prasingis, thankis infynite
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   To the, and thi dulce ornate fresch endite,
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   Mast reverend Virgill, of Latyne poetis prince,
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   Gemme of ingine and fluide of eloquence,
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   Thow peirles perle, patroun of poetrie,
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   Rois, register, palme, laurer, and glory,
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   Chosin cherbukle, cheif flour and cedir tree,
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   Lanterne, leidsterne, mirrour, and a per se,
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   Master of masteris, sweit sours and springand well,
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  Wyde quhar our all ringis thi hevinle bell:
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  I mene thi crafty werkis curious,
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  Sa quik, lusty, and mast sentencious,
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  Plesable, perfyte, and felable in all degre,
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  As quha the mater held to foir thar ee;
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  In every volume quhilk the list do write,
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  Surmonting fer all uther maneir endite,
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  Lyk as the rois in June with hir sueit smell
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  The marygulde or dasy doith excell.
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  Quhy suld I than, with dull forhede and vane,
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  With ruide engine and barrand emptive brane,
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  With bad harsk speche and lewit barbour tong,
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  Presume to write quhar thi sueit bell is rong,
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  Or contirfait sa precious wourdis deir?
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  Na, na, nocht sua, bot knele quhen I thame heir.
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  For quhat compair betuix midday and nycht,
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  Or quhat compare betuix myrknes and lycht,
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  Or quhat compare is betuix blak and quhyte,
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  Far gretar diference betuix my blunt endyte
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  And thi scharp sugurat sang Virgiliane,
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  Sa wyslie wrocht with nevir ane word in vane;
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  My waverand wit, my cunnyng feble at all,
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  My mynd mysty, thir ma nocht myss ane fall.
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  Stra for this ignorant blabring imperfyte
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  Beside thi polyte termis redemyte;
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  And no the les with support and correctioun,
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  For naturall luife and freindfull affectioun
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  Quhilkis I beir to thi werkis and endyte,
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  Althocht, God wait, I knaw tharin full lyte,
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  And that thi facund sentence mycht be song
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  In our langage als weill as Latyne tong--
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  Alswele, na, na, impossible war,per de,
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  Yit with your leif, Virgill, to follow the,
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  I wald into my rurale vulgar gros,
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  Write sum savoring of thi Eneados.
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  Bot sair I drede for to distene the quyte,
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  Throu my corruptit cadens imperfyte;
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  Distene the, na forsuith, that ma I nocht,
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  Weill ma I schaw my burell busteous thocht;
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  Bot thi work sall enduire in laude and glory,
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  Bot spot or falt, conding eterne memory.
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  Thocht I offend, onhermit is thine fame,
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  Thyne is the thank, and myne sal be the shame.

...

THE FIRST BUIK OF ENEADOSCAP. XII
Eneas first excusis him, and syne
Addressis to rehers Troys rwyne.

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   Thai ceissit all at anis incontinent,
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  With mowthis clois, and visage takand tent.
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  Prince Eneas, frome the hie bed, with that,
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  Into his seige riall quhar he sat,
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  Begouth and said: Thi desyir, lady, is
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  Renewing of ontellable sorow, I wis,
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  To schaw how Grekis did spuilye and destroy
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  The greit riches and lamentable realm of Troy,
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  And huge misery quhilk I thair beheld,
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  Quharof myself ane greit part bair and feld;
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  Quhat Marmidon, or Gregion Dolopes,
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  Or knycht wageor to cruell Ulixes,
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  Sic materes to rehers, or yit to heir,
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  Mycht thaime contene fra weping mony ane teir?
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  And now the hevin ourquhelmis the donk nycht,
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  Quhen the declining of the sternis brycht
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  To sleip and rest perswades our appetite;
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  But sen thou hes sic plesour and delite
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  To knaw our chance, and fall of Troy in weir,
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  And schortlie the last end thairof wald heir,
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  Albeit my spreit abhorris, and doth grise
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  Thairon for to ramembir, and oft sise
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  Murnand eschewis thairfra with greit diseis,
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  Yit than I sall begyne yow for to pleis.

Finis Libri Primi.