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Kirkcaldy shall be enlarged, but not by riches: Their Abbot-Hall shall be ruined and their salt and coal shall fail.
Kinghorn, thy royal Master shall lose his life near thy border. But,
Thy horse and ferry shall never fail,
As sure as this is Rymer's tale.
Burntisland, thy port shall flourish; but thy religious disputes shall do thee much hurt. There shall rise a Hoboy, which shall turn thee to music: but take care of that intrustment, for it will vex thee for a season; but its rotten heart will moulder off.
Thou Inverkeithing by the brae,
Ancient for thy liberty.
But thou shalt forfeit thy rights, and shall be perplexed for a season: Trade and commerce in thee shall fail. But if thou repent, there is yet a sure friend, which will relieve thee.
Dunfermline, thou town of old antiquity who hast kings lying in thy urns; look, and behold the days will come, when strangers will fear to see and behold thy ruinous situation. Religious discords will rent thee; by there will be trasect still within thy borders.
Look upward, and behold Culross, who in King David's time got their Charter.
Go straight foreward, and see Alloa, which kyth and kin left them; and they shall grovel under oppressors, and never shall be among the number of thy royal brothers.
