Classic Poem

Our Soverane Lord, into thy tendir aige
Leir to serve God; him luif above all thing.
Cheis thi Counsell of guid just men, and saige;
That ar expert, maist habill, and conding,
To gif ane faythful counsell till ane king
How he sould rewl his realme, in peace and rest:
To luif Vertue; and all vycis doun thring;
Thame to releif that hes bene lang opprest.

Syne be thi Counsell gar it be provydit
How thow sall leif to thi royell estait:
And how thi nobil persoun sall be gydit,
In tyme to cum, and quha sall on the wait,
To be thi garde, and serve the air and lait:
And quhat barons sall in thi court remaine,
Thair tyme about it to devise all gait,
Of thi affairis for to tak sum paine.

Thy propertie, and casualities,
And thay be put to thi utilitie,
Will hald thi hous and pay thi servands' fies,
And find all thing that needful is to thee;
Gif thow will use na prodigalitie,
Nor vainlie waist the rentis of thi croun.
Now in thi youthe experience haif we —
Thy leising haill neir brocht to confusioun.

Was never king nor prince in this countrie
Till leif upon that had so greit ane rent,
To thi proffeit gif it weill gydit be,
And not in vaine consumit, and mispent.
Thairfoir be ressoun thow sould be content
Till leif on it that to thi croun pertenis;
That on the liege taxatioun nor stent
Be never raisit be unlawful menis.

Schir, at thi barons thir thrie things requyre,
Quhilk be ressoun can not denyit be.
First: to breik justice nane sall thee desyre.
The secound is that thow may use frilie
Thy awin leifing, sa it ma be trewlie
Put to sic profeit as it guidlie may.
Thirdlie: that thai the helpe and fortifie
Justice to do at all tyme, nyte and day.

Schir, gif na eiris to vaine flatteraris,
Quha at the lenthe wil bot the plaine dissave.
Gif na credens to commune clatteraris;
Nor in thi court na bakbytars resave.
That will of thame, at quhom thai malice have,
To thi hienes mony lowd lesing make,
And gar thi grace ane [wrang] haitrent consave
Agane trew men, fra the till hald thame bak.

Mycht sclaunderit men of the get audiens,
Or war put [neir] quhan evil tails war tauld,
Thay sould sa weill defend thair innocens,
Thair honestie sa justifie thai wald,
[As suld] thame schame till lie that war so bald;
And gar thi grace sa ken the veritie,
That thow sould than for honest men thame hald:
And tratlane toungs have [na mair] leif to lie.

O royel Roy! thi realme ay rewl be rycht;
And be wyse counsel gyd thi majestie.
About thi persoun haif, bayth day and nycht,
Godlie, guid men, of fame and honestie.
And do nathing in thi minoritie,
Be the persuasioun of ill teils not trew,
That, quhan thow cumis to majoritie,
Experience will gif thee caus to rew.

Young nobil king, and thi Counsel, I pray
This commune-weil keip in tranquillitie:
Sa set it furth, it may incres ilk day.
To thi lieges do justice equallie,
Without respect to persoun, or pairtie:
That in this land be na tuilye, nor sturt.
And in sum caice thi grace may schawe mercie;
And speciallie quhair na partie is hurt.

I pray to God, the gyder of all thing,
Our Soverane saif fra dolour and decay,
And gif him grace to be the nobilest king
That in this regioun rang this mony day!
That he may tak our lang dolour away,
In his non-aige that we haif done sustene.
Falsed and wrang be now baneist for ay,
That gud Justice amang us may be sene.