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 8 THE CHERRIE XIV. Too late I knew, wha hews too high, The spail shall fall into his eye, Too late I went to schuils, Too late I heard the swallow preach, Too late Experience doth teach, The schuil-master of fuils; Too late to find the nest I seek, When all the birds are flown; Too late the stable door I steek, When all the steeds are stown: Too late aye, their state aye, All foolish folk espy: Behind sae, they find nae Remead, and sae do I. XV. If I had ripely been advis'd; I had not rashly enterpris'd To soar with borrow'd pens; Nor had essay'd the archer craft, To shoot myself with sik a shaft, As reason quite miskens, Frae wilfulness gave me my wound, I had nae force to flee : Then came I graining to the ground; Friend, welcome hame, quoth he, Whare flew ye? whom slew ye? Or wha brings hame the booting ? I see now, quoth he now, Ye ha'e been at the shooting: