BETA

“ Intil a garth, under a red rosere,1
Ane auld man and decrepit heard I
sing ;2
Gay was the note, sweet was the voice
and clear ;3
It was great joy to hear of sic ane
thing.4
And to my doume1 he said, in his
diting,5
‘ For to be young I wald not, for my wyss6
Of all this warld to make me lord
and king ;7
The more of age, the nearer heaven’s
bliss.8
‘ False is this warld and full of vari-
ance.9
Ourset with sin and other sytis2 mo ;10
Now truth is tynt,3 guile has the
governance,11
And wretchedness has turnyt all fra
weal to woe ;12
Freedom is tynt and flemyt4 the
Lordis fro,13
And covetise is all the cause of this ;14
I am content that youthhead is ago :15
The more of age, the nearer heaven’s
bliss.16
‘ The state of youth I repute for na
guid,17
For in that state great peril now I
see ;18
Can nane gainstand the raging of his
bluid,19
Ne yet be stable till that he agit be :20
Then of the thing that maist rejoicit
he,21
Na thing remains for to be callit his ;22
For why ? it was but very vanity :23
The more of age, the nearer heaven’s
bliss.24
‘ This wretched warld may na man trow ;
for why ?25
Of earthly joy aye sorrow is the end ;26
The gloyr of it can na man certify,27
This day a king, the morn na thing
to spend !28
What have we here but grace us to
defend ?29
The whilk God grant us to amend our
miss,30
That to his joy he may our saulis
send ;31
The more of age, the nearer heaven’s
bliss.32
1 As I thought.
2 Pains, troubles.
3 Lost.
4 Banished.