William Dunbar: The Golden Targe (Page 10 of 12)
(p.98)Me thoucht scho semyt lustiar of chere
Efter that resoun tynt had his eyne clere
Than of before / and lufliare of face
Quhy was thou blyndit resoun. quhi allace
And gert ane hell. my paradise appere
And mercy seme / quhare that I fand no grace
Dissymulance was besy me to sile
And fair calling did oft apon me smyle
And cherising me fed wyth wordis fair
New acquyntance enbracit me a quhile
And fauouryt me. quhill men myt go a myle
Syne tuke hir leve. I saw hir nevir mare
Than saw I dangere toward me repair.
I coud eschew hir presence be no wyle
On syde scho lukit wyth ane fremyt fare
And at the last departing coud hir dresse
And me delyuerit vnto hevynes
For to remayne / and scho in cure me take.
Be this the lord of wyndis wyth wodenes
God Eolus his bugill blew I gesse
That with the blast the leuis all to schake
And sudaynly in the space of a luke
All was hyne went thare was bot wildernes
Thare was no more bot birdis bank and bruke
In twynklyng of ane eye to scip thai went
And swyth vp saile vnto the top thai stent
And with swift course atour the flude thai frak
Thai fyrit gunnis wyth powder violent
Till that the reke raise to the firmament
The rochis all resownyt wyth the rak