 | Poems (1830) |  |
SOLACE IN AGE.
Thocht that this warld be verie strange,
And theiffis hes done my rowmis range,
And teynd my fauld;
Yet wald I leif, and byde ane change,
Thocht I be auld.
And theiffis hes done my rowmis range,
And teynd my fauld;
Yet wald I leif, and byde ane change,
Thocht I be auld.
Now me to spoulyie sum men nocht spairis;
To tak my geir na captaine cairis,
Thay ar sa bald;
Yet tym may com, may mend my sairis,
Thocht I be auld.
To tak my geir na captaine cairis,
Thay ar sa bald;
Yet tym may com, may mend my sairis,
Thocht I be auld.
115
Sum now, be force of men of weir,
My hous, my landis, and my geir,
Fra me thay hald;
Yit, as I may, sall mak gude cheir,
Thocht I be auld.
My hous, my landis, and my geir,
Fra me thay hald;
Yit, as I may, sall mak gude cheir,
Thocht I be auld.
Sa weill is kend my innocence,
That I will nocht for myne offence,
Flyte lyk ane skald;
Bot thank God, and tak patience;
For I am auld.
That I will nocht for myne offence,
Flyte lyk ane skald;
Bot thank God, and tak patience;
For I am auld.
For eild, and my infirmitie,
Warme claythis ar bettir far, for me
To keip fra cauld;
Nor in dame Venus chamber be,
For I am auld.
Warme claythis ar bettir far, for me
To keip fra cauld;
Nor in dame Venus chamber be,
For I am auld.
Of Venus play past is the heit;
For I may not the misteris beit
Of Meg, nor Mald;
For ane young lass I am not meit,
I am sa auld.
For I may not the misteris beit
Of Meg, nor Mald;
For ane young lass I am not meit,
I am sa auld.
The fairest wenche in all this toun,
Thocht I hir had in hir best goun,
Rycht braivlie brald;
With hir I micht not play the loun,
I am sa auld.
Thocht I hir had in hir best goun,
Rycht braivlie brald;
With hir I micht not play the loun,
I am sa auld.
116
My wyf sumtyme wald taillis trow,
And mony leisingis weill allow,
War of me tald:
Scho will not eyndill on me now,
And I sa auld.
And mony leisingis weill allow,
War of me tald:
Scho will not eyndill on me now,
And I sa auld.
My hors, my harneis, and my speir,
And all uther, my hoisting geir,
Now may be sald;
I am not abill for the weir,
I am sa auld.
And all uther, my hoisting geir,
Now may be sald;
I am not abill for the weir,
I am sa auld.
Quhan young men cumis fra the grene,
Playand at the fute-ball had bene,
With broken spald;
I thank my God, I want my ene,
And am sa auld.
Playand at the fute-ball had bene,
With broken spald;
I thank my God, I want my ene,
And am sa auld.
Thocht I be sweir to ryd or gang,
Thair is sumthing, I've wantit lang,
Fane have I wald;
Thame punysit that did me wrang,
Thocht I be auld.
Thair is sumthing, I've wantit lang,
Fane have I wald;
Thame punysit that did me wrang,
Thocht I be auld.
| Poems (1830) | |