Page:Prophecies of Thomas the Rhymer (1).pdf/10

 Lately a lamb 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 lap and thy prosperity May turn into worse.

Tho' wont to won, may be subdued, 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 force, 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, falsehood, deceit, The wrath of God withal.

Unsatiable greed of worldly gain, Oppression, cries of the poor; A perpetual and slanderous race, No justice put indure.