Sonnet 18. To the Lords of the Session. I Quhare bene je, brave and pregnant sprits, becum ? Quik vive inventionis, ar je worne auay ? I am assuird by simpathie that sum Wald never wish that cunning suld decay *. If ony be, jour Lordships must be thay, Whose spreits jour weeds of verteu hes you spun ; Then mak the poet pensioner, I pray, And byde be justice, as je haif begun. Sen I haif richt, vhy suld I be ouirrun ? Incurage me, and able I can carpe : Hald evin the weyis ; the victory is wun, As I confyde in King and solid Sharpe : Quhom I culd len a lift, your Lordships knauis, War they in love, as I am in the lauis. |
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