WHEN Flora had o'erfret the firth In May of every moneth queen; When merle and mavis singis with mirth Sweet melling in the shawis sheen; When all luvaris rejoicit bene And most desirous of their prey, I heard a lusty luvar mene -- 'I luve, but I dare nocht assay!' 'Strong are the pains I daily prove, But yet with patience I sustene, I am so fetterit with the luve Only of my lady sheen, Quhilk for her beauty micht be queen, Nature so craftily alway Has done depaint that sweet serene: -- Whom I luve I dare nocht assay. 'She is so bricht of hyd and hue, I luve but her alone, I ween; Is none her luve that may eschew, That blinkis of that dulce amene; So comely cleir are her twa een That she mae luvaris dois affray Than ever of Greece did fair Helene: -- Quhom I luve I dare nocht assay!' |