'
'Robin, thou reivis me roiff and rest;
I luve bot thee allane.'
'Makyne, adieu! the sone gois west,
The day is neir-hand gane.'
'Robin, in dule I am so drest
That luve will be my bane.
'
'Ga luve, Makyne, quhair-evir thow list,
For lemman I luve nane.'
'Robin, I stand in sic a styll,
I sicht and that full sair.'
'Makyne, I haif been here this quhyle;
At hame God gif I wair.
'
'My huny, Robin, talk ane quhyll,
Gif thow will do na mair.'
'Makyn, sum uthir man begyle,
For hamewart I will fair.'
Robin on his wayis went
As light as leif of tre;
Makyne murnit in hir intent,
And trowd him nevir to se.
Robin brayd attour the bent:
Then Makyne cryit on hie,
'Now may thow sing, for I am schent!
Quhat alis lufe at me?'
Makyne went hame withowttin fail,
Full wery eftir cowth weip;
Then Robin in a ful fair daill
Assemblit all his scheip.
Be that sum part of Makynis aill
Out-throw his hairt cowd creip;
He fallowit hir fast thair till assaill,
And till her tuke gude keip.
'Abyd, abyd, thow fair Makyne,
A word for ony thing;
For all my luve, it sall be thyne,
Withowttin departing.
All haill thy hairt for till haif myne
Is all my cuvating;
My scheip to-morn, quhyle houris nyne,
Will neid of no keping.'
'Robin, thow hes hard soung and say,
In gestis and storeis auld,
The man that will nocht quhen he may
Sall haif nocht quhen he wald.
I pray to Jesu every day,
Mot eik thair cairis cauld
That first preissis with thee to play
Be firth, forrest, or fauld.
Похожие новости:
Peace good reader do
My tongue is my
Thou whose exterior semblance
When she cam to
Let me so read
Angels cannot tell suffice
Go tune your voices
This for our wisest
The lonesome Spirit from
Such shall the noise
To a Skylark HAIL
707 From In Memoriam
What child is the
In justice you cannot
O there s nocht
And cheerfully at sea
And there she lulled
Home thoughts from the
Or did the stern
733 Sorrow COUNT each
But see the Virgin
Mount we unto the
170 Devotion i FOLLOW
His helmet now shall
Upon my buried body
Then since we mortal
For all must go
Fill high the sparkling
Fair King who all
With them came that
680 Consolation ALL are
136 Blow blow thou
You lived to be
But she did all
And when our chaffering
She never dies but
And O ye Fountains
Sound of vernal showers
Tresses that wear Jewels
Farewell she said ye
seir various erd earth
SIR HENRY WOTTON 1568
Weaving spiders come not
Come then Sorrow Sweetest
Ah Who hath reft
157 1650 205 Matin
|
