User:Scotstarvit


 * Ane doolie sessoun to ane cairfull dyte,
 * Suld correspond and be equivalent.
 * Richt sa it wes quhen I began to wryte,
 * This tragedie, the wedder richt fervent,
 * Quhen Aries, in middis of the Lent,
 * Schouris of haill gart fra the north discend,
 * That scantlie fra the cauld I micht defend.


 * Yit nevertheles within myne oratur,
 * I stude, quhen Titan had his bemis bricht,
 * Withdrawin doun and sylit under cure,
 * And fair Venus, the bewtie of the nicht,
 * Uprais and set unto the west full richt,
 * Hir goldin face, in oppositioun,
 * Of God Phebus, direct discending doun.


 * Throwout the glas hir bemis brast sa fair,
 * That I micht se on everie syde me by.
 * The northin wind had purifyit the air,
 * And sched the mistie cloudis fra the sky.
 * The froist freisit, the blastis bitterly,
 * Fra Pole Artick come quhisling loud and schill,
 * And causit me remufe aganis my will.


 * For I traistit that Venus, luifis quene,
 * To quhome sum tyme I hecht obedience,
 * My faidit hart of lufe scho wald mak grene,
 * And therupon with humbill reverence,
 * I thocht to pray hir hie magnificence,
 * Bot for greit cald as than I lattit was,
 * And in my chalmer to the fyre can pas.


 * Thocht lufe be hait, yit in ane man of age,
 * It kendillis nocht sa sone as in youtheid,
 * Of quhome the blude is flowing in ane rage,
 * And in the auld the curage doif and deid,
 * Of quhilk the fyre outward is best remeid,
 * To help be phisike quhair that nature faillit,
 * I am expert, for baith I have assaillit.


 * I mend the fyre and beikit me about,
 * Than tuik ane drink, my spreitis to comfort,
 * And armit me weill fra the cauld thairout.
 * To cut the winter nicht and mak it schort,
 * I tuik ane quair and left all uther sport,
 * Writtin be worthie Chaucer glorious,
 * Of fair Creisseid and worthie Troylus.