Page:Whole prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France, and Denmark (1).pdf/31

But all bent to deceit, and none truſt other,
Nor the father the ſon in his bodily oaths,
Holy kirk shall have no girth, but plainly overturned;
And lechery on loſt, and none ſpare other;
And each blood with other knits together,
The law of our Saviour is quite forgotten.
⁠This is a true talking that Thomas of tells,
That the hare shall hirple on the hard ſtone,
In hope of grace, but grace gets she none:
Then Gladſmore and Govan shall gape thereafter:
Think not long on this loſs, for it is near hand;
When the lamb is looſe that the holy kirk keeps,
Then falſehood is ſet in ſages of Rome,
And works for the warrant that the cure wan:
Many ſages shall ſigh within short time after,
When the mouth of Arran the top hath overturned,
Then shall Dumbarton mell of old done deeds.
And ſo shall Arran hap in a new man’s hands;
In hope of Dunbar, when hails shall halt,
When the hunter ſhall come and his kind ratolies,
Hunt Fotherick and Fyfe, and the field win.
⁠When summer in winter, and the winter is weet,
With wardling wind and tempeſt great,
Then falſehood is ready his friend to beguile,
With hunger and hirship over all the broad lands;
Then shall the poor people be ſpilled full near,
The leed with the lucken hand is brought out of days,
Subtilly his life shall loſe and many another,
And many doughty shall die for that deed:
And many leed in the North shall their life loſe,
For covetous and treaſon them loſes the land:
Many a wife and maiden shall wring both their hands,
Before this wicked wars be brought to an end.
The firſt root of this war shall riſe in the north,
That the isles and Ireland shall rife in the north,
And the Saxon’s ſeaſed into Brutes lands.
⁠When the moon is dark in the firſt of the number,
With four creſcents to eke forth the days,
And thrice ten, is ſelcouth to ſee,
With an L to Lowſe out the reſt of the number,
Syne let three and two thrieps as they will,
This is the true date that Merling oft tells,
And give to king Uter Arthurus father,
And for to mean and muſe With theſe merry words,