he King of France, comparing him with the royal Hebrew, and with a
French compliment!

Dieu le _donna_ aux peuples Hebraiques;
Dieu te _devoit_, ce pense-je, aux Galliques.

He insinuates that in his version he had received assistance

---- par les divins esprits
Qui ont sous toy Hebrieu langage apris,
Nous sont jettes les Pseaumes en lumiere
Clairs, et au sens de la forme premiere.

This royal dedication is more solemn than usual; yet Marot, who was
never grave but in prison, soon recovered from this dedication to the
king, for on turning the leaf we find another, "Aux Dames de France!"
Warton says of Marot, that "He seems anxious to deprecate the raillery
which the new tone of his versification was likely to incur, and is
embarrassed to find an apology for turning saint." His embarrassments,
however, terminate in a highly poetical fancy. When will the golden age
be restored? exclaims this lady's psalmist,

Quand n'aurons plus de cours ni lieu
Les chansons de ce petit Dieu
A qui les peintres font des aisles?
O vous dames et demoiselles
Que Dieu fait pour estre son temple
Et faites, sous mauvais exemple
Retentir et chambres et sales,
De chansons mondaines ou salles, &c.

Knowing, continues the poet, that songs that are silent about love can
never please you, here are some composed by love itself; all here is
love, but more than mortal! Sing these at all times.

Et les convertir et muer
Faisant vos levres remuer,
Et vos doigts sur les espinettes
Pour dire saintes chansonettes.

Marot then breaks forth with that enthusiasm, which perhaps at first
conveyed to the sullen fancy of the austere Calvin the project he so
successfully adopted, and whose influence we are still witnessing.

O bien heureux qui voir pourra
Fleurir le temps, que l'on orra
Le laboureur a sa charrue
Le charretier parmy la rue,
Et l'artisan en sa boutique
Avecques un PSEAUME ou cantique,
En son labeur se soulager;
Heureux qui orra le berger
Et la bergere en bois estans
Faire que rochers et estangs
Apres eux chantent la hauteur
Du saint nom de leurs Createur.
Commencez, dames, commencez
Le siecle dore! avancez!
En chantant d'un cueur debonnaire,
Dedans ce saint cancionnaire.

Thrice happy they, who shall behold,
And listen in that age of gold!
As by the plough the labou