Classic Poem

My Lordis now gif ze be wyse,

Knaw weil the grace it God hes send zow
Gif to that leuing Lord all pryse,
Pray that from dainger he defend zow,
And na way lat zoure fais offend zow
But gif zow counsell and curage,
Bauldlie togidder all to bend zow,
That ze do nouther swerue nor swage.

Think it is nouther strenth nor fors
That hes set zow a fuite befoir,
Think weill that nouther men nor hors
Off sic ane act sould get the gloir:
Bot he that ringis euer moir
Hes luikit on zoure quarell rycht,
Gif him all thankis now thairfoir,
And pryse his name with all zour micht.

I grant zour interpryse was gude,
Zour purpose worthy till allow,
Bot I considder how it stude
And how the cais is cumin now
Had they keipit thame self fra zow,
And langer taryit in thair strenth,
Thocht zour curage was gude I trow
Ze had zit irkit at the lenth.

Think weil thair wit was thame bereft
Quhen fulishlie thay tuik the plane
Think thay war to thair foly left,
Quhen thay in feild come zow agane.
Think weill ze aucht for to be faine,
But bluid to win the upperhand
Quhair nouther man was hurt nor slane
To get the Jewell in zour hand.

Sen ze it haue thairof be suie,
Or els ze ar rycht far to blame
Gif ze hir till eschaip enduire,
Think ze sall haue baith skaith and shame
Quha babishlie bourdis with his dame
It war weill wairit he gat his quhippz,
Think neuer agane to dwell at hame,
Gif ze lat ga that is in zour grippis.

Gif sho had not cum in the feild,
For to defend the tratoure kene,
And not laubourit with speir and sheild
His wickit quarrell to sustene,
Ze had done wrang as sum men mene
Hir to withald agane hir will,
Bot now quhill trew tryell be sene
Sho moste be keipit or all will spill.

Pas fordwart in zour interpryse,
Reuenge in haist the cruell act:
Spair not to gif thame all ane syse
Quhome ze beleif the King did sact.
Be bauld and na way turne abak,
Spair nouther midling greit nor small
With wysdome syne gude tryall tak
And cause sum ane confes thame all.

Proclaime that all quha ocht dois knaw
To mak probatioun euident,
With diligence thay cum and shaw
In oppin and in place patent.
That sinners shortlie may be shent,
And gude men fred from all defame:
Sen God hes to zow power lent,
Gif ye be lashe ye ar to blame.

The heid traytoure quhair euer he be
Gif ye haue fors se ye persew,
Thocht he fra hoill to hoill do fle
At last he can not weill eschew.
Lat him be slaine your King that slew,
Bring ainis his fylthie lyfe till end:
Quha wickitlie this beir did brew
Wa worth the tyme that sho him kend.

Syne on your self ye tak gude keip,
And lat na ennimeis heir resort:
Be walkryfe and fall not on sleip,
Baith day and nycht gar walk your port,
Lat gude quarrell your hartis comfort:
The wark is greit ye haue in hand,
Think weill it is not play nor sport
Bot outher man ye die or stand.

For Godis saik aboue all thing,
Keep clene your handis fra wrangus geir
Gif ye wald haue his trew blissing,
Schaw first that ye the Lord do feir.
Exerce your selfis in gentill weir,
And fle from fylthie auarice,
Quhilk is as I in Scriptuire leir
The verray ruite of euerie vice.

Zour brether of the Nobill race,
With all meiknes desyre concur,
And your querrell in this cace,
Quhilk I dout not will be ane spur.
So that your pride cause thame nor stur
Bot your gude gyding thame alluire:
To cause thame enter mak ane duire,
Gif ye do swa ye may be suire.

Tak Godis quarrell als in hand,
And purge vs from Ipocrasie,
And than ye sall haue in your band
The townis and communitie.
Prouyde als for the Ministerie,
Reforme the Justice gif ye can,
Than sall tryumph your memorie
Above all sen this Realme began.

Sen Fergus first come in this land,
Sic gude beginning neuer was sene,
That gentilnes at thair awin hand
Sa just ane quarrell did sustene.
Reuoltis hes bene ma nor fyftene,
And Princes in strang presoun set:
Quhair all from bluid was keipit clene
Skantlie can I exampill get.

Think than ye wil preforme the work
That now dois your beginning blis,
And thocht your ennimies seme stark
He will cause thame thair purpose mis
That all war ane faine wald I wis,
Bot zit thocht sum againis zow faill
This actioun haill sa honest is,
With Godis grace it sall preuaill.

Lat na man throuch yow harmit be
And than ye sall na hartis tyne,
Gif euerie ane his awin degre
Excluid na man out of his lyne.
Set all at rest and efter syne
With all the rest concur togidder,
To mak ane ordour gude and fyne,
As your wisdomis can best considder.

Keip weil your Prince & for him pray
That God indew him with his grace,
That he incres may day be day
To be the best of all his race.
The trew Religioun syne imbrace
Fra vice to vertew tak the traine,
His pepill weill in perfyte peace
And lang in helth with thame remaine.

All vitious wycht fra him exclude,
Be walkryfe wyse and diligent:
Gif ony be wald him na gude
Lat thame na way be thair present.
To teich him vertew tak gude tent
Lat not his zoutheid be infectit
Greit is the gift God hes yow lent
Sair sall ye rew hif ye neglect it.

And thus yow sportlie till exhort,
My Lordis all I thocht it gude:
For men of-tyme of meinest sort
That raknit war of ressoun rude.
Seing the cais and how it stude,
Hes geuin gude counsall to the wyse,
Sa wald I now and to conclude
God blis yow and your interpryse.