Page:Whole prophecies of Scotland, England, Ireland, France & Denmark.pdf/20

In a ship of ſilver sheen;
With him comes many ferly food,
To work the Scots much hurt and woe.
There comes a ghoſt out of the weſt,
Is of another language than he,
To the battle bowns him beſt,
As ſoon as he the Senyour can ſee:
The raches works them great wanreſt,
Where they are rayed on a lee;
I cannot tell who hath the beſt,
Each one of them makes other die.
A white ſwan ſet into blae,
Shall ſemble from the ſouth ſea,
To work the northern folk great woe,
For know you well thus shall it be,
The ſtaiks aught with ſilver ſet,
Shall ſemble from the other ſide,
Till he and the ſwan be met,
They shall work woe with wounds wide,
Thro' wounds wide their weeds hath ſet,
So boldly will their bairns bide.
It is no reck who gets the beſt,
They shall both die in that ſame tide.
⁠There comes a Lord out of the north,
Riding upon a horſe of tree,
That broad lands hath beyond Forth
The white hind beareth he;
And two ratches that are blue,
Set into gold that is ſo free,
That day the eagle shall him ſlay,
And then put up his banner hie.
The Lord that bears the lolans three,
Set into gold with jewels two:
Before him shall a battle be.
He wears a banner that is blue,
Set with peacocks' tails three,
And luſty ladies heads two:
Unfain of one, each other shall be,
All through grief together they go;
I cannot tell who wins the gree,
Each one of them shall other ſlay:
The eagle grey ſet into green,
That wears the harts' heads three,

Out of the ſouth he shall be ſeen,