 | Satirical poems of the reformation |  |
128
XVI. The Cruikit liedis the blinde.
This warld it waggis I wat not how,
And na man may ane vther trow,
And euerie man dois pluke and pow,
And that the pure may finde:
Our Court it is decayit now:
The cruikit leidis the blinde.
And na man may ane vther trow,
And euerie man dois pluke and pow,
And that the pure may finde:
Our Court it is decayit now:
The cruikit leidis the blinde.
Althocht the warldlie wise be cruikit,
This commoun weill he hes miscuikit,
Our Lordis ar blinde and dois ouerluik it:
He gydes thame as he list.
Tak thay not tent he will not huik it,
To gyde thame in the mist.
This commoun weill he hes miscuikit,
Our Lordis ar blinde and dois ouerluik it:
He gydes thame as he list.
Tak thay not tent he will not huik it,
To gyde thame in the mist.
He halds our Lords at variance,
He garris the tane put esperance
Thay will get daylie help of France;
This he garris thame confide:
Sayis Ingland will bring mony Lance
Vnto the vther side.
He garris the tane put esperance
Thay will get daylie help of France;
This he garris thame confide:
Sayis Ingland will bring mony Lance
Vnto the vther side.
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Our Lords ar now delt in twa sydis,
And euerie faction in him confydis:
Ȝe will heir tell how he thame gydis,
And ȝe leif ȝeiris few:
Sen he hes maid sa mony slydis
Trow ȝe he can be trew?
And euerie faction in him confydis:
Ȝe will heir tell how he thame gydis,
And ȝe leif ȝeiris few:
Sen he hes maid sa mony slydis
Trow ȝe he can be trew?
Fra he in Court in credite grew
He did ay change the Court anew,
The Quene his doingis sair did rew,
And richt sa did hir Mother:
The counsall kennis gif he was trew
To him that was hir Brother.
He did ay change the Court anew,
The Quene his doingis sair did rew,
And richt sa did hir Mother:
The counsall kennis gif he was trew
To him that was hir Brother.
In Edinburgh quhen thay conuene,
Our Lords to him thay gang bedene;
As he was outher King or Quene
He hes thame at his bidding:
His craftie counsall will be sene,
Quhē Doggs barkis on ye midding.
Our Lords to him thay gang bedene;
As he was outher King or Quene
He hes thame at his bidding:
His craftie counsall will be sene,
Quhē Doggs barkis on ye midding.
Albeit he haif the Feuer quartane,
He suld be made Knycht of the Gartane;
He rewlis Edinburgh and Dunbartane,
As Maddie dois me tell:
Gif he war Pape, I am richt certane,
He wald reule heuin and hell.
He suld be made Knycht of the Gartane;
He rewlis Edinburgh and Dunbartane,
As Maddie dois me tell:
Gif he war Pape, I am richt certane,
He wald reule heuin and hell.
Gif he gar Athol do sic schame,
As to consent to bring hir hame,
And gif the gyding to Madame,
They will put downe the King:
The Crowne will alter fra that Name,
Than murderars may sing.
As to consent to bring hir hame,
And gif the gyding to Madame,
They will put downe the King:
The Crowne will alter fra that Name,
Than murderars may sing.
He hes gart Hume begin to tyre,
Althocht that he gat his desyre;
Bot he will leid him in the myre
Thocht he hecht to defend him:
And Ingland set his lands in fyre
I wat not quha will mend him.
Althocht that he gat his desyre;
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Thocht he hecht to defend him:
And Ingland set his lands in fyre
I wat not quha will mend him.
Als he gat Setoun out of hands,
From forfalting he sauit his lands,
Thocht he be lyand vnder bands
He will not knaw the King:
Sen ȝe ken how the mater stands,
Suld he haif leif to fling?
From forfalting he sauit his lands,
Thocht he be lyand vnder bands
He will not knaw the King:
Sen ȝe ken how the mater stands,
Suld he haif leif to fling?
Our richt Regent, quha was our targe,
Laid sindrie things vnto his charge,
The quhilk in deid war verray large,
As is kend with anew:
Ȝe haif geuin him ane plane discharge,
And sayis it was not trew.
Laid sindrie things vnto his charge,
The quhilk in deid war verray large,
As is kend with anew:
Ȝe haif geuin him ane plane discharge,
And sayis it was not trew.
I wat ȝe saw neuer ane styme,
And wantit baith ressoun and ryme,
Quhen ȝe forgaif him all his cryme,
And maid his oddis euin:
Thocht he be fristit at this tyme,
He will not be forgeuin.
And wantit baith ressoun and ryme,
Quhen ȝe forgaif him all his cryme,
And maid his oddis euin:
Thocht he be fristit at this tyme,
He will not be forgeuin.
I pray ȝow, Lordis, on ather syde,
That ȝe his sawis do not confyde,
For I will sweir ȝow be Sanct Bryde,
He susseis not thre strais
Quha suld be rewlar nor our gyde,
May he bruke that he hais.
That ȝe his sawis do not confyde,
For I will sweir ȝow be Sanct Bryde,
He susseis not thre strais
Quha suld be rewlar nor our gyde,
May he bruke that he hais.
All thir maters he dois bot mock;
He hes deuysit mony sic block;
He can begyle ane Landwart Jock,
Except he ken him weill;
Thay say he can baith quhissill and cloik,
And his mouth full of meill.
He hes deuysit mony sic block;
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Except he ken him weill;
Thay say he can baith quhissill and cloik,
And his mouth full of meill.
My Lordis, quhat is this that ȝe mene?
I thinke the holkis ouergangis ȝour ene;
I wald sum man wald scheir ȝow clene,
That ȝe micht se thir faultis,
And be not blinde as ȝe haif bene,
Nor led with thame that haultis.
I thinke the holkis ouergangis ȝour ene;
I wald sum man wald scheir ȝow clene,
That ȝe micht se thir faultis,
And be not blinde as ȝe haif bene,
Nor led with thame that haultis.
Finis.
| Satirical poems of the reformation | |