Classic Poem

1

In secreit place this hyndir nycht
I hard ane beyrne say till ane bricht:
" My hwny, my hart, my hoip, my heill,
I haue bene lang your luifar leill
And can of yow get confort nane.
How lang will ye with danger deill?
Ye brek my hart, my bony ane."

2

His bony beird wes kemmit and croppit,
Bot all with cale it was bedroppit,
And he wes townysche, peirt and gukit.
He clappit fast, he kist and chukkit,
As with the glaikis he wer ouirgane.
Yit be his feirris he wald haue fukkit —
" Ye brek my hart, my bony ane."

3

Quod he: " My hairt, sweit as the hwnye,
Sen that I borne wes of my mynnye,
I never wowit weycht bot yow.
My wambe is of your luif sa fow
That as ane gaist I glour and grane.
I trymble sa, ye will not trow,
Ye brek my hart, my bony ane."
4

" Tehe!" quod scho, and gaif ane gawfe.
" Be still, my tuchan and my calfe,
My new spanit howffing fra the sowk,
And all the blythnes of my bowk.
My sweit swanking, saif yow allane
Na leyd I luiffit all this owk.
Full leif is me yowr graceles gane."

5

Quod he: " My claver and my curldodie,
My hwny soppis, my sweit possodie,
Be not oure bosteous to your billie,
Be warme hairtit and not ewill wille.
Your heylis, quhyt as quhalis bane,
Garris ryis on loft my quhillelille.
Ye brek my hart, my bony ane."

6

Quod scho: " My clype, my vnspaynit gyane,
With moderis mylk yit in your mychane,
My belly huddrun, my swete hurle bawsy,
My hwny gukkis, my slawsy gawsy,
Your mvsing waild perse ane harte of stane.
Tak gud confort, my grit heidit slawsy,
Full leif is me your graceles gane."

7

Quod he: " My kid, my capirculyoun,
My bony baib with the rwch brylyoun,
My tendir gyrle, my wallie gowdye,
My tyrlie myrlie, my crowdie mowdie,
Quhone that oure mouthis dois meit at ane,
My stang dois storkyn with your towdie.
Ye brek my hairt, my bony ane."

8

Quod scho: " Now tak me be the hand,
Welcum, my golk of Marie land,
My chirrie and my maikles munyoun,
My sowklar, sweit as ony vnyoun,
My strwmill stirk, yit new to spane.
I am applyit to your opvnyoun,
I luif rycht weill your graceles gane."

9

He gaiff to hir ane apill rubye.
Quod scho, " Gramercye, my sweit cowhubye!"
And thai tway to ane play began,
Quhilk men dois call the dery dan,
Quhill that thair myrthis met baythe in ane.
" Wo is me", quod scho, " Quhair will ye, man?
Best now I luif that graceles gane".