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 18 THE CHERRIE XXXIV. Look where thou light before thou loup And slip not Certainty for Hope, Wha guids thee but be-guess. Quoth Courage, Cowards take nae cure To sit with shame, sae they be sure : I like them all the less; What pleasure purchas'd is but pain, Or hon our won with ease ? He will not lie where he is slain, Wha doubts before he dies. For fear then, I hear then, But only ane remead, Which late is, and that is, For to cut aff the head. XXXV. What is the way to heal thy hurt? What is the way to stay thy sturt? What means may make thee merry? What is the comfort that thou craves ? Suppose these sophists thee deceives, Thou know's it is the Cherrie ; Since for it only thou but thirsts, The Slae can be nae buit: In it also thy health consists, And in nae ither fruit. Why quakes thou, and shakes thou? And studies at our strife? Advise thee, it lies thee On nae less than thy life.