Page:Poems of William Dunbar (1834) Vol 2.djvu/79

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And mony hundreth myle hyne cowd us blaw

By Holland, Seland, Zetland, and Northway coist,

In desert [place] quhair we wer samist aw;

Yit come I hame, fals baird, to lay thy boist.

Thow callis thé Rethory with thy goldin lippis:

Na, glowrand, gaipand fule, thow art begyld,

Thow art bot Gluncoch with thy giltin hippis,

That for thy lounry mony a leisch hes fyld;

Wan visaged widdefow, out of thy wit gane wyld,

Laithly and lowsy, als lathand as ane leik,

Sen thow with wirschep wald sa fane be styld,

Haill, soverane senyeour! thy bawis hingis throw thy breik

Forworthin fule, of all the warld refuse,

Quhat ferly is thocht thow rejoys to Flyte?

Sic eloquence as thay in Erschry use,

In sic is sett thy thraward appetyte;

Thow hes full littill feill of fair indyte:

I tak on me ane pair of Lowthiane hippis

Sall fairar Inglis mak, and mair parfyte,

Than thow can blabbar with thy Carrik lippis.

Bettir thow ganis to leid ane doig to skomer,

Pynit pyk purse pelour, than with thy Maister pingill.

Thow lay full prydles in the peise this Somer,

And fane at evin for to bring hame a single,

Syne rubb it at ane uthir auld wyfis ingle;

Bot now, in Winter, for purteth thow art traikit;