Page:Poems of William Dunbar (1834) Vol 2.djvu/75



,

Ane thing thair is compilit

In generale be and ,

Quhilk hes thame self aboif the sternis stylit;

Bot had thay maid of mannace ony mynting

In speciall, sic stryfe sould ryse but stynting;

Howbeit with bost thair breistis wer als bendit

As Lucifer, that fra the Hevin discendit,

Hell sould nocht hyd thair harnis fra harmis hynting.

The erd sould trymbill, the firmament sould schaik,

And all the air in vennamus suddane stink,

And all the divillis of hell for redour quaik,

To heir quhat I sould wryt, with pen and ynk;

For and I Flyt sum sege for schame sould sink,

The fé sould birn, the mone sould thoill ecclippis,

Rochis sould ryse, the warld sould bald no grippis,

Sa loud of cair the commoun bell sould clynk.

Bot wondir laith wer I to be ane baird,

Flyting to use, for gritly I eschame;