Thocht thow did firft fie foly to me fynd, Thovv fall agane with ma witnefs than I; Thy gulfoch gane dois on thy hack it hind, Thy hofland hippis lattis nevir thy hofs go dry. 200
Thow held the Burch lang with ane borrowit goun, And ane caprowfy barkit all with fweit And quhen the laidis faw the fa lyk a loun, Thay bickerit the witb mony bae and bleit: Now Upaland thow leivis on rabbit quheit, 205 Oft for ane caufs thy burdclaith neidis no fpredding, For thow hes nowthir for to drink nor eit, Bot lyk ane berdles baird, that had no bedding.
Strait Gibbonis air, that nevir ourftred ane horfe, Bla berfute berne, in bair tyme wes thow borne; 210 Thow bringis the Carrik clay to Edinburgh Corfe, Upoun thy botingis, hobland hard as home; Stra wifpis hingis owt, quhair that the wattis ar worne: Cum thow agane to fkar us with thy ilrais, We fall gar fcale ouv fculis all the to fcorne, 215 And flane the up the calfay qubair thow gais.
Off Edinburgh, the boyis as beis owt thrawis, And cryis owt ay, Heir cumis our awin queir Clerk! Than fleis thow, lyk ane howlat cheft with crawis, Quhill all the bichis at thy botingis dois bark: 220 Thau carlingis cryis, Keip curches in the merk, Our gallowis gaipis ; lo ! quhair ane graceles gais.
