Classic Poem

Gif wicked vice first sen the warld began
Had age be age, but punishment Increst?
In eirth langsyne yair had been nothing than,
Saif only vice and malice manifest.
Bot to thir dayis sic meanis God ay drest,
Aganis vice that vertew ay hes streuin:
Thoche ather uther be tyme has [ ] opprest
Last Justice bure ay the ballance euin.

Sa of hes plesure it plesit him prouyde
Us to exerce as ship vnder the saill:
Sum tyme in storme, sum tyme in temperate tyde
To let vs knaw this warld is but fraill
Betuix gude and euill markand our trauaill
In euills flude not menand our nawfrage:
Princes be Justice he ordanit in this vaill,
Us to conduct as Pilats dois their Barge.

And sa we se in Stories as we reid,
Ay to their dayis sum Magistrates did ring;
Sum gude some euill, be tyme as did succeid
At quhais plesure vertew did fade or spring.
The gude did vertew, the wicked vice vpbring
Quhat plesis them the same the pepill suittis
And sa we se the mauers of the King
Is ay the mark quhairat his subiectis shuittis

This part to preif be yair particular liues
It war to lang in vulgare veirs expres it,
At lenth the same sen Cronickles discriues
And als experience will cause vs to confesit.
And last of all, how wicked vice Incres it
Amang ourselues throw Mareis negligence,
And how the same began to be suppressit;
Be Murrayis meane we haif experience.

Quhat vice rais vp reuolue into zour minds
Quhat sin, quhat shame, in hir last dayis did reil
That prudent Prince gif yat he tuik sum pynis
That mys to mend I hope ze haif ane feill.
Gif ocht he socht except ane commoun weill,
The gloir of God and Kingis obedience:
And in that cause maid Justice ay his sheild,
I seik na Judge bot zour awin conscience.

His awin estate he cairit ay to knaw,
For pompe nor pryde can na man say he preist,
Societie he socht, and keipit curage law,
Think and alwayis that mesure was ane feist.
His peple luifit and cairit for the leist,
For profite panst not, nor his commoditie;
In trouble trauellit: his cumer neuer ceist
Ay to his wraik, and our vtilitie.

Thus be his prudence vertew was erectit
In him the pure oppressed had releif;
Throw him Idolatrie and vice was eiectit,
Throw him God's Kirk and peple fand releif.
Throw him wes vinqueist the veildars of yis grief
Throw him yis realme fand su stabilitie
Throw him was baneist thift, murther, & reif,
Piracie puneist and deuillishe sorcerie.

Sa vertew sprang and vice began to faide,
Oppressioun fled, and Justice tuik the place,
His godly lyfe all godly men may aide:
Be his exemple vertew to imbrace.
And als his lyfe may in ane other cace,
All Princes warne heirefter to succeid:
Thair foes to flatter that hes ane double face
And to be war to clap ane traytours heid.

Euen as the man the quhilk be musik playis
Mistonit stringis castis not away we se,
But peice and peice be sundrie wrestis & layis
Ilk ane with vther be tyme causis agre.
Euen so that Prince thocht be humilitie
His peple wyn, and concord to contrake
Bot as sum stringis will rather brek nor be,
Euin so the wickit be mercy will not make.

His mercy wan: bot mair his mercy tint
Not he, bot we, his mercy now may rew
His mercy loist, we wan the swordis dint,
His mercy saifit be murther that him slew.
Suppose his mercy this bergane to vs brew
Zit mene I not bot men suld mercy vse
To penitents, quha myndis not vice renew,
Bot nane to sic continewis in abuse.

His mercy saifit, quha mercy not deseruit,
His mercy did preserue the arrogant:
His mercy sum amangis us hes preseruit,
Thocht thay seme holy in deid yat ar na sanct.
His mercy saifit, we wer the better want,
Thair serpents seid to tyrans wald vs thral
Because sic peple in tyme he did not dant,
But warldly mercy Christ sufferit him to fall.

For mortall malice, and curst couetice,
With wickit Inuy commonit all in Ire:
And prydefull arrogance the mother of all vice
Aganis that Prince did cruelly conspire,
His fais hartis Inflamit all in fyre,
His blude to seik Inuyfull of his gloir;
Saikles to shuit him ane harlet feit for hyre,
Hangman to Hary, that traitouris wes befoir.

O bludy bouchour bastard of Balials blude
Quha to this Realme had nother lufe nor zeill
O tressonable tratour be tresson yat thocht gude
Murdreis the Prince preseruer of this weill.
O sorrowfull shot, thy poyuson did doun steill,
Not only him, quhom wofully thow woundit:
Bot pure & riche, thy vennoume hes gart feill,
Of his deir deith the stoundis him confoundit.

That shot allace yis realme hes shot in tway
That shot to vice the portis hes oppinit plane,
That shot hes Justice and vertew shot away,
That shot Idolatrie is shuitand vp agane.
Sic shottis vnpuneist gif lag time yat remane
Vice sall be vertew, and vertew sall be vice:
Wrang sall be richt and richt salbe thocht vane
Ilk ane vnpuneist sall pleis thair awin deuice.

That shot hes sinderit quhilk was togidder knit
That shot hes cuillit our curage as ye leid
That shot hes feiblit our manly force and wit,
That shot our sichts hes blindit all in deid.
We se and spyis not our sorrowis to succeid,
We meint & meinis not this wickitness correck
We wald and will not hank yame be ye heid
Quha hes preparit the swordis for our nek.

Vagabounds we wander in miserie & wo
As ship but Ruther, sa ga we now but gyde:
Weskan we scatter we wait not quhair we go
Spyis not the rock quhairo we rashe our syde
We haif na grace nor power to prouyde,
Aganis this rage and crueltie: remeid
Bot willingly allace throw arrogance & pryde
Offers this Realme as Sacrifice to deid.

In place of peace now murther weir uprasis
In place of lufe Inuy amangis vs springis
In place of Faith his friend falset betrasis
In place of rest Rebellioun with us raigis.
In place of ane, we haue so mony Kingis
The Crownit King gettis na obedience
Su France for aide, and sum Ingland inbringis,
The ane for wrak the tother for defence.

And so this Realme quhilk enemeis oft sayit
With cruell weir and sturdie stormis fell,
Quhilk feirful force of Ingland neuer frayit,
Of France the feir, nor Spaine in just quarrel
Quhilk to thir dayis vnuenqueist buir ye bell
Sall now allace be fatell destinie:
As Aiax wes, be vanquer of the sell
On proper knyfe constraynit for to die.

Quhat wald allace our Kings & elders say,
Gif in thir dayis from heuin yat now discendit
To se this Realme so dulefully decay,
In quhats defence yair lusty lyuis thay endit.
Thay wald I trust repent yair time sa spendit
Thay wald I wait yair labouris loist forthink
To se yair Babes ye blude quhilk yai defendit
Aganis nature sa cruelly vpdrink.

Justlie yis plague I dout not we deseruit
Seikand the menis of our awin mischeif:
Bakwart from God because we haif sueruit
Thairfoir we taist his punischment in greif.
Zit in his mercy haifand ay beleif
Still sall I pray his deuine Maiestie
Aganis this rage to send his releif,
Our King to saif and his Nobilitie.

Zenuoye

Go bony bill deploir
Of deith the dolent stound,
Quhilk did our Prince deuoir
James Regent of Renoun.
I pray the go, declair the wo
Sen syne that dois abound,
I gif command, throw burgh and laud,
The same zow gar resound.

Our cair may moue the stonis
And hauie rockis to rair:
Swa mony stormes at onis,
Struke neuer land sa sair.
The cause of that, the heuins wat,
Not I, I zow declair,
Except it be, to let vs se
How kingdomes ar bot cair.

Zit lat vs not dispair
Into thir walis of wo,
God may conuert our cair
In plesure and in Jo.
He may discord, turne in accord,
And mak him freind was fo:
He may I trest, set vs at rest,
Thocht all the warld say no.

It sulde releue our greif,
To se our King bening:
In him I hope releif
Of zeiris thocht he be zing.
His future age, sum great presage,
Presentis vs in his Ring:
Quha our defence, in his nascence,
Tuik haill in gouerning.