Come let us help him yet:
Past time we may not prove again;
We waste the present time in vain,
Beware of that, quoth Wit:
Speak on, Experience, let’s see,
We think ye hold ye dumb.
Of by-gones I have heard quoth he
I know not things to come.
Quoth Reason, the season
With slowthing slides away;
Then take him, and make him
A man, if that ye may.
XXXV.
Then altogether they began
To call, come on, thou crazy man
What is thy will advise?
Abash’d, a little while I stay’d,
Musing or I answer made
And turn’d me once or twice,
Beholding every one about,
Whose motions mov’d me maist.
Some seem’d assur’d, some were in doubt,
Will ran red-wood for haste,
With wringing and flinging,
For madness them amang;
Despair too, for care too,
Would needs himself go hang.
XXXVI.
Which when Experience perceiv’d,
Quoth he, remember if we rav’d,
As will advanc’d of late,
When that he swore, he nothing saw
In age but anger, slack and slaw,
And canker’d of conceit.
Ye could not luck as he alledg’d.
That all opinions priz’d,
He was so fierce and fiery edg’d
He deem’d us ill advis’d.
Who scances all changes,
