Classic Poem

Of ladyes bewtie to declair
I do rejois to tell;
Quhan thai ar young, men think tham fait,
And lustie lyk to sell.
Thay do appeir for to excell,
Sa wounderous moy thai mak it.
Sueit, sueit is thair bewis,
Ay whil thai be contractit.

Quhan thai have thair virginitie;
Thay seim to be ane sanct;
Seim as thay knew divinitie.
Na propertie thai want.
Quha swers thame trew, and seims constant,
And trests in all thay say,
Sune, sune he is begylit,
And lichtlied for ay.

Sen Adam, our progenitour
First creat be the Lord,
Beleiv'd his wickit parantour,
Quha consal'd him discord;
Persuading him for to accord
Unto the deil's report;
Dull, dull dreis the man
That trests into that tort.

Bot thair is mony Adams now,
And evir in this land;
Sic bestlie men subjectit wow,
Ay redie at command;
Quhateir thair wyfes dois thame demand,
Thay wirk it many wayis;
Ar fraydant at the man,
Quhil thay bring him our stayis.

Our lords ar so degenerat,
Syn ladeis tuke sic ster,
Thay spend thair rents upon thair weids;
And baneist hes gud cheir.
Thair goldsmyth wark it gois so deir,
To conterfit grit princis;
Lords, your ladye-wyfes, but weir,
Put yow to grit expencis.

Thair belts, thair broches, and thair rings,
Mak biggings bair at hame;
Thair hudes, thair chymours, thair garnysings,
For to agment thair fame.
Scho sall thairfoir be calt Madame;
Botand the laird maid Knycht.
Grit, grit is thair grace,
Howbeit thair rents be slicht,

The lairds that drank guid wyn, and ale,
Ar now faine to drink smattis;
Thay top the beir, and cheips the meil,
The ladie sawis the aittis.
The jakmen and the laird debaitis;
Dishonorit is thair name.
Fy, fy on thame all,
For thai regard no schame.

Scho sayis, an the laird had men,
That he will wodset land;
Quhilk waistit is by hir wemen.
Mahoun resave that band!
For thay will waist mair under hand,
Nor us weil staik may.
Ladyes and lairds, gar hound your dogs,
And hoy the queins away.

Sen hunger now gois up and down,
And na gud for the jakmen;
The lairds and ladyes lyde of the toun,
For feir of hungerie bakmen.
The ladyes at the yet dois shack thame,
Regarding no remeid.
Short, short be thair lyvis;
And duleful be thair deid.