 | To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox |  |
Anus answeris to Galathea.
I am vnjustly blamid, the treuth to tell,
Bot sic offence, mot far be put fra me,
For I sall purge and purifie my sell,
By richt and resoun, as your selfe sall se:
The name of that crime, far dois disagre,
With my auld age, quhilk may mak na releif,
My craft is not so curious, nor so he,
In wikit maters, tending to mischief.
Bot sic offence, mot far be put fra me,
For I sall purge and purifie my sell,
By richt and resoun, as your selfe sall se:
The name of that crime, far dois disagre,
With my auld age, quhilk may mak na releif,
My craft is not so curious, nor so he,
In wikit maters, tending to mischief.
Gif ony stryfe, or wauering wourdis of wind,
To you hes chancit, concerning sic a cace,
Quhat falt or cryme, in me than can ye find,
Quho absent wes, and out of present place:
Quhat euer it be, that dois you so disgrace,
I for my awin pairt, will my self acquite,
Your ardent lufe, with priuie tyme and space,
Hes done the deid, quhairof I haif na wyte.
To you hes chancit, concerning sic a cace,
Quhat falt or cryme, in me than can ye find,
Quho absent wes, and out of present place:
Quhat euer it be, that dois you so disgrace,
I for my awin pairt, will my self acquite,
Your ardent lufe, with priuie tyme and space,
Hes done the deid, quhairof I haif na wyte.
| To the Richt High Lodvvik Duke of Lenox | |