Poem by Robert Henryson

Sum Practysis of Medecyne

Guk, guk, gud day, schir: gaip quhill ye get it. 
	Sic greting may gane weill; gud laik in your hude. 
Ye wald deir me I trow, becaus I am dottit, 
	To ruffill me with a ryme – na, schir, be the rude. 
Your saying I haif sene and on syd set it, 
	As geir of all gaddering, glaikit nocht gude; 
Als your medicyne by mesour I haif meit met it, 
	The quhilk I stand ford ye nocht vnderstude, 
		Bot wrett on as ye culd to gar folk wene 
			For feir my longis wes flaft, 
			Or I wes dottit or daft: 
			Gife I can ocht of the craft, 
				Heir be it sene.

Becaus I ken your cunnyng in to cure
	Is clowtit and clampit and nocht weill cleird,
My prectik in pottingary ye trow be als pure
	And lyk to your lawitnes – I schrew thame that leid.
Is nowdir fevir nor fell that our the feild fure,
	Seiknes nor sairnes, in tyme gif I seid,
Bot I can lib thame and leiche thame fra lame and lesure,
	With sawis thame sound mak: on your saule beid,
		That ye be sicker of this sedull I send yow,
			With the suthfast seggis
			That glean all egeis
			With dia and dreggis
				Of malis to mend yow.

			Dia culcakit

Cape cuk maid, and crop the colleraige,
	Ane medecyne for the maw and ye cowth mak it
With sueit satlingis and sowrokis, the sop of the sege,
	The crud of my culome, with your teith crakit,
Lawrean and linget seid and the luffage,
	The hair of the hurcheoun nocht half deill hakkit,
With the snowt of ane selch, ane swelling to swage:
	This cure is callit in our craft dia culcakkit.
		Put all thir in ane pan with pepper and pik.
			Syne sett in to this,
			The count of ane cow kis;
			Is nocht bettir I wis,
				For the collik.

			Dia longum

Recipe thre ruggis of the reid ruke,
	The gant of ane gray meir, the claik of ane gus, 
The dram of ane drekters, the douk of ane duke, 
	The gaw of ane grene dow, the leg of ane lows,
Fyve vnce of ane fle wing, the fyn of ane fluke, 
	With ane sleiffull of slak that growis in the slus; 
Myng all thir in ane mas with the mone cruke. 
	This vntment is rycht ganand for your awin vs, 
		With reid nettill seid in strung wesche to steip,
			For to bath your ba cod,
			Quhen ye wald nop and nod;
			Is nocht bettir be God,
				To latt yow to sleip.

			Dia glaconicon

This dia is rycht deir and denteit in daill,
	Caus it is trest and trew: thairfoir that ye tak
Sevin sobbis of ane selche, the quhidder of ane quhaill,
	The lug of ane lempet is nocht to forsaik,
The harnis of ane haddok, hakkit or haill,
	With ane bustfull of blude of the scho bak,
With ane brewing caldrun full of hait caill,
	For it wilbe the softar and sweittar of the smak:
		Thair is nocht sic ane lechecraft fra Lawdian to Lundin.
			It is clippit in our cannon
			Dia glecolicon,
			For till fle awaye fon
				Ouhair fulis ar fundin.

			Dia custrum

The ferd feisik is fyne and of ane felloun pryce,
	Gud for haising and hosting or heit at the hairt.
Recipe thre sponfull of the blak spyce,
	With ane grit gowpene of the gowk fart,
The lug of ane lyoun, the gufe of ane gryce,
	Ane vnce of ane oster poik at the nethir parte,
Annoyntit with nurice doung for it is rycht nyce,
	Myngit with mysdirt and with mustart.
		Ye may clamp to this cure, and ye will mak cost,
			Bayth the bellox of ane brok, 
			With thre crawis of the cok, 
			The schadow of ane yule stok, 
				Is gud for the host.

Gud nycht, guk guk, for sa I began;
	I haif no come at this tyme langer to tary,
Bot luk on this lettir and leird gif ye can,
	The prectik and poyntis of this pottingary:
Schir, minister this medecyne at evin to sum man
	And or pryme be past, my powder I pary,
Thay sall blis yow or ellis bittirly yow ban,
	For it sail fle thame in faith out of the fary.
		Bot luk quhen ye gadder thir gressis and gers,
			Outhir sawrand or sour,
			That it be in ane gude oure:
			It is ane mirk mirrour,
				Ane vthir manis ers.

1. The Ressoning betwix Aige and Yowth
2. Against Hasty Credence
3. The Bludy Serk
4. The Wolf and the Lamb
5. The Fox, the Wolf, and the Cadger

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