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“Fra banc to banc, fra wod to wod, I rin Ourhailit with my feble fantasie, Lyk til a leif that fallis from a trie Or til a reid ourblawin with the wind. Twa gods gyds me: the ane of tham is blind, Ye, and a bairn brocht up in vanitie; The nixt a wyf ingenrit of the se, And lichter nor a dauphin with hir fin. Unhappie is the man for evirmair That teils the sand and sawis in the aire; Bot twyse unhappier is he, I lairn, That feidis in his hairt a mad desyre, And follows on a woman throw the fyre, Led be a blind and teichit be a bairn.” — Mark Alexander Boyd
Fra banc to banc, fra wod to wod, I rin
Ourhailit with my feble fantasie,
Lyk til a leif that fallis from a trie
Or til a reid ourblawin with the wind.
Twa gods gyds me: the ane of tham is blind,
Ye, and a bairn brocht up in vanitie;
The nixt a wyf ingenrit of the se,
And lichter nor a dauphin with hir fin.
Unhappie is the man for evirmair
That teils the sand and sawis in the aire;
Bot twyse unhappier is he, I lairn,
That feidis in his hairt a mad desyre,
And follows on a woman throw the fyre,
Led be a blind and teichit be a bairn.