Classic Poem

1

Full oft I mvse and hes in thocht
How this fals warld is ay on flocht,
Quhair no thing ferme is nor degest;
And quhone I haue my mynd all socht,
For to be blythe me think it best.
2

This warld dois ever chynge and varie.
Fortoun so fast the quhele dois carie,
No tyme in turning can it tak rest,
For quhois fals chynge sould none be sarie.
For to be blythe me think it best.
3

Wauld man in mynd considdir weill,
Or Fortoun turnit on him the quheill,
That erdlie honour may not lest,
His fall les paynfull sould he feill.
For to be blythe me think it best.
4

Quha with this warld dois warsill and stryfe
And dois his dayis in dolour dryfe,
Thocht he in lordschip be possest,
He levis bot ane wrechit lyfe.
For to be blyth me think it best.
5

Off wardlie guddis and grit riches
Quhat frute hes man but merynes?
Thocht he this warld had, eist and west,
All is bot povertie but glaidnes.
For to be blythe me think it best.
6

Quha sould for tynsall drowp or de
Off thing that is bot vanite,
Sen to the lyfe that ever sall lest
Heir is bot twynkling of ane e?
For to be blythe me think it best.
7

Hed I for warldlie onkyndnes
In hart tane ony havynes,
Or fro my plesance bene opprest,
I had bene deid lang syne, doutles.
For to be blythe me think it best.
8

How euer this warld dois chynge and varie,
Let ws no moir in hart be sarie,
Bot ay be reddie and addrest
To pas out of this fraudfull farie.
For to be blyth me think it best.