XIX.

He has tane Rowl of Aberdene.
And gentle Rowl of Corstorphyne ;
Twa bettir Follows did no Man fie,
Timor mortis conturbat me.

XX.

IN Dumfermling he has tane Broum, With gude Mr. Robert Henryfon;

Sr John the Rofs imbraist has he,

Timor, &c.

XXI.

AND he has now tane, last of aw,
The gentle Stobo and Quintene Schaw,

Of quhome all Wichts has grit Pitie,

Timor, &c.

XXII.

AND Mr. Walter Kennedy

In Poynt of Death lyes werely;

Grit Rewth it wer that fo fould be,

Timor, &c.

XXIII.

SEN he has all my Brethren tane,

He will not let me leive alane;

On Forfs I maun his nixt Prey be,
Timor, &c.

XXIV.

SEN for the Death Remeid is none,
Beft is that we for Death difpone;
Aftir our Death, that live may we,
Timor mortis conturbat me.

POSTSCRIPT.

XXV.

S

UTHE I forfie, if Spae-craft had,

Frae Hethir-Muits fall ryfe a LAD,

Aftir twa Centries pas, fall he

Revive our Fame and memorie.

XXVI,

THEN fall we flourish EVIR GRENE;
All Thanks to carefull Bannantyne,

And to the PATRON kind and fric,
Quha lends the Lad baith, them and me.
XXVII.

FAR fall we fare, baith Eift and Weft,
Owre ilka Clyme by Scots poffeft;

Then sen our Warks fall nevir die,

Timor mortis non turbat me.

Quod DUNBAR.

* Patron, Mr. William Carmichael, Brother to the Earl of Hyndford, who lent A. R. that curious MSS. collected by Mr. George Bannantyne Anno 1568, from whence thefe Poems are printed.

The WIFE of Auchtermuchty.

I.

N Auchtermuchty dwelt a Man,

IN

An Hufband, as I heard it tawld,

Quha weil coud tipple out a Can,

And nowther luvit Hungir nor Cauld,

Till anes it fell upon a Day,

the Plain;

He zokit his Plewch upon
But fchort the Storm wald let him stay,

Sair blew the Day with Wind and Rain.

II.

He lowfd the Plewch at the Lands End,
And draife his Owfen hame at Ene;
Quhen he came in he blinkit ben,

And faw his Wyfe baith dry and clene,
Set beikand by a Fyre full bauld,
Suppand fat Sowp, as I heard say:
The Man being weary, wet and cauld,

Betwein thir twa it was nae Play.

III.

QUOD he, quhair is my Horses Corn,
My Owfen has nae Hay nor Strae,
Dame, ye maun to the Plewch the Morn,
I fall be Huffy gif I may.

This Seid-time it proves cauld and bad,
And ze fit warm, nae Troubles fe;

The Morn ze fall gae with the Lad,

And fyne zeil ken what drinkers drie.

IV.

GUDEMAN, quod fcho, content am I,
To tak the Plewch my Day about,
Sae ye rule weil the Kaves and Ky,
And all the Houfe baith in and out:
And now fen ze haif made the Law,
Then gyde all richt and do not break;
They ficker raid that heir did faw,
Therefore let naithing be neglect.

V.

But fen ye will Huffyfkep ken,

First ye maun fift and fyne fall kned;

And ay as ze gang butt and ben,

Luke that the Bairns drýt not the Bed: