Page:Prophecies of Thomas Rymer (2).pdf/11

 Lately a land of rich increase,
 * a nation stout and true,

Has lost their former dear estate,
 * which they did hold of due.

By hard conflict, and by the chance
 * of noble Fortune's force,

Thy hap and thy prosperity
 * may turn unto worse.

Tho' wont to won, may be subdu'd,
 * and come in under yoke;

Strangers may reign, and you destroy,
 * what likes him by sword's stroke.

A foreign foe, whom neither thy force
 * nor manners do approve,

Woe is to thee, by guile and slight,
 * will only win above.

This mighty nation was to-fore,
 * invincible and stout,

Will yield slowly to destiny;
 * great pity is but doubt.

In former age the Scots renown,
 * did flourish goodly gay:

But yet, alas! will be overcome
 * with a great dark decay.

Then mark and see what is the cause,
 * of this so wond'rous fall!

Contempt of faith, falshood, deceit,
 * the wrath of God withal.