For once Britain ſhall be in a new knights hands,
Whole hap to bide shall ſee with his eyes,
And Merling and Waldhave have ſaid of before,
And true Thomas told in his time after,
As Saint Beid in his book berieved the ſame,
Muſe on if you may for miſtir ye have,
I shall give you a token, that Thomas of tells,
When a lad with a lady shall go over the fields,
And many fair things weeping for dread,
For love of their dear friends lies looking on hills,
That it shall be woe for to tell the teind of their ſorrow,
Then ſhall be waſted their chief lands,
Where God curſes with his mouth, dead muſt follow.
Now wot thou, Waldhave, my will is way to paſs,
To wood-wilderneſs, where my way lies;
Then is Libberts three lamed for ever.
And the lion ſhall be lord and leader for ſooth,
And all Britain the broad ſhall him bow to,
And his barnage bold ſhall him bliſs keep,
Then ſhall fruit well and faſhon of corne,
If freedom and friendſhip his fyance be holden,
Cry ye Chriſtian men of Chriſt, and honour our king
Of all cures and cares, in this coaſt angers.
And thus he ſundered me frae, I fained no longer,
Put I marvelled faſt at this fair head,
I ſtudied right ſtably, and all aſtoniſh'd thereof,
That I winked ere I wiſt, and wrought upon ſleep;
And when I wakened, written I found,
All theſe words on wax, wanted there none,
Brieved be on a broad book, and on my breaſt laid,
Bleſſed he the briever that the book wrote.
Then can I make more muſe, and melling therewith,
The firſt morning of May, this marvel I ſaw,
As I lay mine alone on Lowdon-Law,
Looking to the Lennox me lief thought.
The Prophecy of Gild.
WHEN haly Kirk is wracked, and will has no wit,
And pallors are pluckt, and pield without pity,
When idolatory is in Ens and Re,
And ſpiritual pastors are vexed and away,
And all eſtates in ſight are unknown,
Becauſe of their cleathing, cunning or craft,
