PLACEBO

Good brother mine where is Solace The mirror of all mirrines, I have great marvel be the Mes He tarries sa Long. Bide he away we ar bot shent, I ferly how he From us went: I trow he hes impediment That lettis him nought gang. Solace quhy taryit ȝe sa Long? Believe ȝe that we will begyll ȝow, Or from ȝour virtue we will wile ȝow, Or with evil counsel overseyll ȝow, Both into Good and evil: To taken ȝour graces partly we grant In all ȝour deidis participant, Sa that ȝe be nought ane young sanct And sin ane old devil. I reid us put upon the King; And walkin him of his sleiping: Sir rise and see ane uncouth thing. Get up, ȝe lie too Long. Ȝe see how Sensuality, With Principals of ilk country, Be gladly lettin in: And with our Prelatis More and less, Speir at my Lady Priores, Giflechery be sin. Sir I see them ȝonder cummand, They will be he heir evin From hand, Also fast as they may gang. Be God I see him at the last As he war chaste rynnand riched fast, He glowris evin as he war aghast Or fleyit of ane gaist. Nam, he is wood drunken I trow, See ȝe not that he is wood fow: I ken well be his creischie mow He hes be at ane feast. Sir send ȝe for Sandy solace Orells ȝour monȝeoun Wantonness, And pray my Lady Priores, The with till declair: Give it be sin to taken Kaity, Or to leif Like ane bummill baty The buik says Omniam probate And nought for to spair. Sir scho is mekill to avance, For scho can baith play and dance: That perfect patron of pleasance Ane pearl of pulchritude: Soft as the silk is his quhite lyre, His hair is Like the golden wire: My heart burnis in ane flame of fire I sweir ȝow be the Rude. I think scho is sa wonder fair, That in earth scho hes nam compair, War ȝe well leirn it at luifis lair And sin had his anis seen: I wait be cokis passion, Ȝe walled make supplication, And spend on his ane million His Love for till obtain.