The Poems of James VI. of Scotland Edited by James Craigie |
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 | The Poems of James VI. of Scotland |  |
111
Another on the same
Shall treason then of trueth haue the rewarde
And shall rebellion thus exalted be
Shall cloked vice with falsehoods fained farde
In creditt creepe and glister in our eye
Shall coloured knaues so malapertlie lie
And shamelesse sowe there poysoned smitting seede
And shall periured infamous foxes slie
With there triumphes make honest harts to bleede
How long shall Furies on our fortunes feede
How long shall vice her raigne possesse in rest
How long shall Harpies our displeasure breede
And monstrous foules sitt sicker in our nest
In tyme appointed God will suirlie haue
Eache one his due rewarde for to resaue.
And shall rebellion thus exalted be
Shall cloked vice with falsehoods fained farde
In creditt creepe and glister in our eye
Shall coloured knaues so malapertlie lie
And shamelesse sowe there poysoned smitting seede
And shall periured infamous foxes slie
With there triumphes make honest harts to bleede
How long shall Furies on our fortunes feede
How long shall vice her raigne possesse in rest
How long shall Harpies our displeasure breede
And monstrous foules sitt sicker in our nest
In tyme appointed God will suirlie haue
Eache one his due rewarde for to resaue.
All kinde of wronge allace it now aboundes
And honestie is fleemed out of this land
Now trumprie ouer trueth his triumphe soundes
Who now can knowe the hart by tongue or hand
Cummes euer iustice at the barre to stande
Where can she be in these our later dayes
Alike in water for to wagg a wande
As speare for her if truelie sundrie sayes
For manie now abroade doe daylie blaize
That iustice hath her hart infected sore
How can she then be cleane in anie wayes
Bot must become corrupted more and more
Sume lockman now hath locked wp apart
Poore iustice martyr'd with a meschant hart.
And honestie is fleemed out of this land
Now trumprie ouer trueth his triumphe soundes
Who now can knowe the hart by tongue or hand
Cummes euer iustice at the barre to stande
Where can she be in these our later dayes
Alike in water for to wagg a wande
As speare for her if truelie sundrie sayes
For manie now abroade doe daylie blaize
That iustice hath her hart infected sore
How can she then be cleane in anie wayes
Bot must become corrupted more and more
Sume lockman now hath locked wp apart
Poore iustice martyr'd with a meschant hart.
| The Poems of James VI. of Scotland | |