 | To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox |  |
Galathea answers to Anus.
In how faill parts, O God that sits abufe,
Are lufers mindis, transportit euer mair,
Quhilk mindis with feir and firie flamis of lufe,
Baith to and fro, are tostit heir and thair:
Thir diuers troubils, driuis me to dispair,
And nicht and day, dois put me out of tone,
That thing, quhilk lufe likis best, with earnest cair,
That thing, vaine feir, forbids for to be done.
Are lufers mindis, transportit euer mair,
Quhilk mindis with feir and firie flamis of lufe,
Baith to and fro, are tostit heir and thair:
Thir diuers troubils, driuis me to dispair,
And nicht and day, dois put me out of tone,
That thing, quhilk lufe likis best, with earnest cair,
That thing, vaine feir, forbids for to be done.
It na wais waits, quhat it suld titest do,
Into the wrang way, wauering far agast,
It ers and wauers, and throw wauering to,
It nutrefies the wound of lufe at last:
Lufe me subdews, vnto it selfe maist fast,
Agains the same, albeid I striue and stray,
Lufe burns me vp, with mony biter blast,
The mair that I the samin disobay.
Into the wrang way, wauering far agast,
It ers and wauers, and throw wauering to,
It nutrefies the wound of lufe at last:
Lufe me subdews, vnto it selfe maist fast,
Agains the same, albeid I striue and stray,
Lufe burns me vp, with mony biter blast,
The mair that I the samin disobay.
I vexit am, and with wo wereit eik,
With wark inane, quhilk dois my body greiue,
All wobegone, this meikill I will speik,
I rather die, nor in this stait to leiue:
With wark inane, quhilk dois my body greiue,
All wobegone, this meikill I will speik,
I rather die, nor in this stait to leiue:
| To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox | |