Tak Consolation in zour Pain,
In Tribulation, tak Consolation,
Out of Vexation cun hame again,
Tak Consolation in zour Pain;
Jube Dom. benedicite.

Out of Distress of Stirvling Toun
To Edinbrugh bless God mak ze boun.

LECTIO II.

Patriarchs, Prophets and Apostles deir, Virgins, Confessouris, Martyris cleir, And all the Seat celestiall,

Devoutly we upon them call,

That sune out of zour Pains fell,
Ze may in Heaven heir with us dwell,
To eat Cran, Pertrick, Swan and Pliver,
And every Fisch that swyms in River,
To drink with us the new fresch Wyne
That grew upon the River Ryne,
Fresch fragrant Clarits out of France,
Of Angiers and of Orliance,

With mony Comforts of grit Dainty,
Say ze Amen, for Charity.

Responsum, tu autem Dom.

GOD and Sanct Jeil heir zou convoy Baith sune and weil, GoD and Sanct Jeil, To Sonce and Seil, Solace and Joy, GoD and Sanct Jeil heir zou convoy, Out of Stirvlings Pains fell,

In Edinbrugh Joy sune mot ze dwell.

LECTIO III.

We pray to all the Saints in Heaven, That ar abune the Starns seven,

Zou to bring out of zour Penance,

That ze may sune sing, play and daunce

In Edinbrugh heir, and mak gude Cheir,
Quher Wealth and Weilfare is bot Weir;
And I that do zour Pains discryve
Intend to vissy zou belyve,

In Desart not with zou to dwell,
But as the Angel Saint Gabriell
Dois go betwein, frae Heavens Glory,
To them that ar in Purgatory,
Sum Consolation them to give,
Quhyle they in Tribulation live,

And schaw them, quhen thair Pains ar past,
They sall cum up to Heaven at last;
Hou nane deserves to haif Sweitness,
That nevir tastit Bitterness;

And therfor hou suld ze considder

Of Edinbrughs Bless, quhen zou cum hidder:
But gif ze tastit had befoir

Of Stirling Toun, the Pains soir,

And therfore tak in Patience

Zour Penance and zour Abstinence,

And ze sall cum or Zule begin

Into the Bless that we ar in;
Quhilk grant we pray to all on Hy,
Say ze Amen, for Charity.

Respons. tu autem Dom.

Cum hame and dwell nae mair in Stirvling, Frae hydious Hell cum hame and dwell, Quhair Fisch to sell ar nane but Spirrling, Cum hame and dwell nae mair in Stirling.

*

འ་་་་་་

THE FLYTING.

Dunbar to Kennedie.

ERSCH brybour Baird, vyle Beggar with thy Bratts, -bittin Kennedie, Coward of Kynd,

Ill-far't and dryit, as Densman on the Ratts,

Lyke as the Gledds had on thy gule Snowt dynd;

Monster mismaid, ilk Mune out of thy Mynd,
Rebald renounce thy ryming, thou but royis,
Thy trechour Tung has tane a heland Strynd;
A lawland Erse wald mak a better Noyis.

Riven, raggit Ruke, and full of Rebaldrie,
Scart Scorpion, scaldit in Scurilitie,
I se the haltane in thy Harlotrie,

And into uther Science nothing slie,
Of every Vertew wyd, as Men may se;
Quyt claim with Clergy, cleik to thee a Club,
Blasphemar Baird, in Brybrie ay to be;
Wisdom and Wit a Wisp frae thee may rub.

Dastard, thou speirs, Gif I dare with thee fecht?
Ze Dagone, dowbart, therof haif thou nae Dout;
Quhair eir we meit therto, my Hand I hecht
To redd thy Rebald ryming with a Rout:
Throw Britain braid it sall be blawn about,
Hou that thou, poysond Pelour, gat thy Paiks
With a Dog-Leisch, I schepe to gar the schout,
And nowther to thee tak Knyfe, Swerd or Aix.

Thou Crop and Rute of Traytor treasonable,
Fader and Muder of Morthor and Mischeif,
Deceitfull Tyrand, Serpent tungd, unstable,
Cuckald, Cradoun, Couard and common Theif;
Thou purposd anes to undo our Lord and Chief,
In Paislay, with a Poyson that was fell,

For quhilk Brybour zit sall thou thole a Brief;
Pelor, I sall it prieve on thee my
sell.

Tho' I wald lie, thy frawart Phisnomy
Dois manifest thy Malice to all Men;
Fy Traytour Theif, fy Glengore Loun, fy, fy,
Fy Feyndlyke Front, far fouler than a Fen,
My Freynds thou hast reprovit with thy Pen,
Traytour thou leis, quhilk İ sall on thee preive;
Suppose thy Heid wer armit Tymis ten,
Thou sall recryit, or I thy Crown sall cleive.

Or thou durst move thy Mynd malitious,

Thou saw the Sail abune my Heid updraw;

But Eolus full wid, and Neptunus,

Mirk and Muneless, was met with Wind and Waves,
And mony a hundreth Myles hynd coud us blaw
By Holand, Zetland and the Northway Coast,
In Deserts vast, quhair we wer famist aw,
Zit cum I hame, fals Baird, to lay thy Boast.

Thou callis thee Rethory with thy goldin Lipps:
Na, glowrand, gapeand Fule, thou art begyld,
Thou art but Glunschoch with the giltit Hipps,
That for thy Lounrie mony a Leisch has fyld;
Vain Widdifow, out of thy Wit gane wyld,
Laithly and lowsy, lathand as a Leik,

Sen thou of Worschip wad sae fain be styld;
Hail Sovraign Schir, thy B-s hing throw thy Breik.
Forworthin Fule, of all the Warld Refuse,
Quhat Ferly is thocht thou rejoyce to flyt?
Sic Eloquence as they in Earsry use,
In sic is set thy trawart Appityte;
Thou has full litle Feil of fair Indyte,
I haif on me a Pair of Lowthiane Hipps,

Sall fairer Inglis mak, and mair perfyte, Than thou can bleber with thy Carrick Lipps.

Bettir thou gains to leid a Dog to skomer,

Pynd Pyck-purse Pelour, than with thy Maister pingle; Thou lay richt prydles in the Peis this Sommer, And fain at Evin for to bring hame a Single, Syne rubbd it at ane uther auld Wyfis Ingle: In Winter now for Purtith thou art trakit,

Thou has nae Breiks to let thy Hawlocks gingle; Gae beg a Club, for Bard thou sall gae nakit. Lean, lounger, lowsy, baith in Lisk and Lunzie, Fy, skowdert Skyn, thou art but Skyre and Skrumple; For he that rosted Lawrance had thy Grunzie,

And he that hid Saint Johns Een with a Wimple,

And he that dang Saint Augustyne with a Rumple, Thy foul Front had he that Bartilmo flayd;

The Gallows gapes after thy graceles Gruntle,
As thou wald for a Haggies, hungrey Gled.

Comerwald Crawdon, nane compts the a Kers,
Sweir swapit, swanky Swyne, Kepar ay for Swats:
Thy Commissar Quintyne bids the cum kis his Erss,
He lykes not sic a forlane Loun of Laits;

He says, Thou skaffs and begs mair Beir and Aits, Nor ony Criple in Carrick Land about:

Uther pure Beggars thole with thee Debates, Carlings decript on Kennedie cry out.

Matter enough I haif, I neid not fenzie,

Thocht thou foul Trumper has upon me lied, Carrion corrupt, hich sall I cry thy Senzie; Thinks thou not hou thou came into grit Neid, Greitand in Gallaway, lyke Gallow Breid, Ramand and rowpand, beggand Ky and Ox, I saw thee there into thy Watchmans. Weid, Quhilk was not worth a Pair of auld gray Socks. Ersch Katherene with thy Polk, Breik and Rilling, Thou and thy Quean as greidy Gleds ze gang With Polks to Mill, and begs baith Meil and Schilling, Thair is but Lyce and lang Nails zou amang, Foul Heggerbald, for Hens this will ze hang, Thou has a perilus Face to play with Lambs; A Thousand Kids wer they in Falds full strang, Thy Limmer Luke wald fley them and thair Dams. Intill a Glen thou has, out of Repair,

A laithly Ludge that was the Lipper Mens, With thee a Soutars Wyfe of Bliss as bair,

Ze lyke twa Stalkers steils in Cocks and Hens, Thou pluks the Poultry, scho pulls aff the Pens, All Carrick crys, God gin this Dowf wer drownd; And quhen thou heirs a Guse quaik in the Glens, Sweiter thou thinkst than Mattins Bell of Sound.