16.01.2011, 15:28
Hugh Barclay
1560 - 1597 Schottland
My best belovit brother of the craft,
God if ye knew the stait that I am in!
Thocht ye be deif, I know ye ar not daft
Bot kynd aneugh to any of your kin.
If ye bot saw me in this winter win
With old bogogers hotching on a sped,
Draiglit in dirt, whylis wat evin to the skin
I trow thair suld be tears or we twa shed.
Bot maist of all, that hes my bailis bred
To heir how ye on that syde of the mure
Birlis at the vyne, and blythlie gois to bed,
Forgetting me, pure pleuman, I am sure.
So, sillie I, opprest with barmie juggis,
Invyis your state that's pouing Bacchus luggis.
1560 - 1597 Schottland
My best belovit brother of the craft,
God if ye knew the stait that I am in!
Thocht ye be deif, I know ye ar not daft
Bot kynd aneugh to any of your kin.
If ye bot saw me in this winter win
With old bogogers hotching on a sped,
Draiglit in dirt, whylis wat evin to the skin
I trow thair suld be tears or we twa shed.
Bot maist of all, that hes my bailis bred
To heir how ye on that syde of the mure
Birlis at the vyne, and blythlie gois to bed,
Forgetting me, pure pleuman, I am sure.
So, sillie I, opprest with barmie juggis,
Invyis your state that's pouing Bacchus luggis.