Lamentatioun
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QUhen bludy Mars with his undantit rage
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With Saturne maid this cruel conspiratioun
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And curst Juno with birnand feirs curage
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Amangis Planettis had greitest dominatioun.
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I hard ane voice with drerie lamentatioun,
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Sayand o Lord help now with thy rycht hand,
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Gone is the Joy, and gyde of this Natioun,
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I mene be James Regent of Scotland.
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Quhen Lachesis hir threid had drawin to lenth
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Prolonging furth this Princes lyfe in gloir,
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Than Atropus extending furth hir strenth,
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This fatell threid, allace for to devoir,
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Now Justice (oh) quha sal thy sword decoir?
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This commoun weil quhat wicht sal now warrand
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Sen he is gone, that Governd us before
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That upricht Prince James Regent of Scotland
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His gude beginning quha that culd richt report
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Quhen this Regioun of reule was destitude,
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In plane Parliament our Nobillis did exhort,
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That Innocent to tak the fortitude.
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Of this fals Ile, of Justice than denude,
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And with thair aithis promysit with him to stand,
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Justice to keip in mynde he did conclude,
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Sa lang as he was Regent in Scotland.
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Sen Fergus dayis, his lyke was never none,
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In equall Justice, and deidis Martiall,
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Thir Realmes twa he knat up baith in one,
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Quhilk never Prince befoir culd do at all.
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The Sovage daillis he dantonit and maid thrall
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To serve thair King, he gart thame gif thair band,
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With fyre and sword for grace he gart thame call
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That prudent Prince James Regent of Scotland.
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His commoun weill, he lufit over all thing,
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In trew Religioun na Prince mycht be his peir
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Idolatrie but reuth he did doun thring,
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All Sorsarars he puneist far and neir,
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Na Homiceid, nor theif that durst appeir,
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Within his sycht for dreid of dynt of brand,
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Just men he maid his tallow and his feir,
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This humane Prince James Regent of Scotland.
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The Devill seand this godly Prince sa bent,
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Throw auld malice he gaif to rage throw feid,
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His Spreit Inferne he send Incontinent,
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Amangis tratours for to conspyre his deid.
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And cruelly but mercy or remeid,
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With schot of gunne thai murdreist him fra hand,
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Schort over twa yeiris quhen he had rung in deid
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This Innocent Prince James Regent of Scotland.
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Ye vertuous men lament his cairfull chance,
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Sen he is gone that suld yow fortifie,
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All ye that wald the trew Gospell avance:
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Bevaill, bevaill, for that sweit Josue.
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Your secund Moyses, that led yow throw the se,
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Had he Indurit your Canane land had stand,
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Dispair not yit. Christ will your Capitane be,
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Sen he is gone James Regent of Scotland.
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Ye pure commounis that lang hes bene opprest
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And ye Burrowis murne and Regrait his fall:
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Gif he had leifit, na man durst yow molest
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For quhy he was ane watcheman on your wall
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Now sen na Prince may leif uprycht at all,
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In this fals Realme on slane in Burgh and land
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Adew now Mirrour of Justice Principall,
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Maist godly Prince James Regent of Scotland.
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This commoun weill he luffit sa tenderlie,
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Quhilk to mantene na thing maid him agast
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His lufe to it he schew maist faithfullie,
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And with his blude he s[e]illit it up at last.
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Had he mantenit all Tratours that trespast,
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His godly lyfe in Joyis yit had stand,
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That wald he not, and sa this Prince is past,
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That Innocent James Regent of Scotland.
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Now ye his followeris of his Interpryse,
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Think on the murther of that Innocent,
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Extend your strenthis, and all togidder ryse,
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Pas endlang Clyde, but reuth incontinent,
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Meg Lochis get, that did the mys Invent,
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That Apostat, that Feyndis awin Seriand,
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Seis not quhill he, and his curst kin Repent,
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The slauchter of our Regent of Scotland.
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That Infant Babe, that ye haif taine in cure,
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Saif him from skaith, and stif togidder byde,
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Remember quhat ye haif in hand be sure,
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Your fais will lauch quhen thay se yow devyde.
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Lat na vaine gloir, covet[ic]e nor pryde.
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Expell freindschip to wrak yow and this land,
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Keip the last wordis of our Just Joy and gyde,
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Quhen he deceissit James Regent of Scotland.
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Hudge is your fais within this fals Regioun,
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With Ithand trystis contractand up new bandis
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To bring yow to schame and confusioun,
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Gaird yow yow lufe, sen ye wait how it standis.
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Your Prince & strenth, keip weill in faithful handis
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For gif your fais tryumphis over yow to stand
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Schaip yow for deid, or dwell in uther landis,
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Sen he is gone James Regent of Scotland.
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Your cause is Just, g[if] ye wald all persew
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Bot quhair devisioun lu[r]kis, it is ane pyne:
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Christ hes it said, and doutles it is trew,
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That Kingdome sall cum to greit ruyne
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Quhen that devisioun hes his sait and tryne,
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Thairfoir be war, counsall is na command:
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For gif ye perische, your cause & freindis sall tyne
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For now thay want James of Scotland
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Greit is the danger ye stand in now but dout,
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And ye haif schame fra your purpois to fle,
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Spair not for geir, bot with bauld hartis be stout
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Mantene Gods cause, to commoun weill haif Ee
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And he that is of maist Magnificie,
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Your baner sall display with his awin hand,
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To the Confusioun of your Enemie
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Sen he is gone James Regent of Scotland.
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O thow that art Omnipotent conding,
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Thre persounis Ringand in ane Trinitie,
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Help this pure Realme, & preserve our young King
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Fra schame and deid, and feid of Enemie.
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Amangis our Nobillis plant peace and unitie,
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Fra mercyles strangers saif us with thy richt hand
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Our sinnis is greit, yit mercy restis with the,
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Adew for ay James Regent of Scotland.
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