Page:Poems of William Dunbar (1834) Vol 1.djvu/100

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8
THE THRISSILL AND THE ROIS.

And lat no fowll of ravyne do efferay, 125
Nor devoir birdis bot his awin pray.

Than callit scho all flouris that grew on feild,
Discirnyng all thair fassionis and effeiris:
Upone the awfull Thrissil scho beheld.
And saw him kepit with a busche of speiris; 130
Considering him so able for the weiris,
A radius croun of rubeis scho him gaif,
And said, In feild go furth, and fend the laif:

And sen thow art a King, thow be discreit;
Herb without vertew thow hald nocht of sic pryce
As herb of vertew, and of odour sueit;
And lat no nettill vyle, and full of vyce,
Hir fallow to the gudly flour-de-lyce;
Nor latt no wyld weid, full of churlicheness,
Compair hir till the lilleis nobilness: 140

Nor hald non udir flour in sic denty
As the fresche Rois, of cullour reid and quhyt:
For gife thow dois, hurt is thyne honesty;
Considdering that no flour is so perfyt,
So full of vertew, plesans, and delyt, 145
So full of blisful angeilik bewty,
Iraperiall birth, honour and dignité.

Than to the Rois scho turnit hir visage,
And said, O lusty dochtir most benyng,