Sonnet 61. Of the Duleweid. III Quhat suld I wish, if wishing war not va[ne?] Gold? silver? stones? or precious peirlis of I[nd ?] No, no ; I carie not a misers mynd ; I wish no more bot to be borne agane ; Provyding that I micht a man rema[ne,] And sho that bure me, euen of sik a kyn[d] That in hir birth hir persone war not py[nd,] Bot ay the plesur to exceid the pane. Then to be borne into a bonie bark, To saill the seyis, in sik tym of the jeir Vhen hevy hartis it helthsum halds to he[ir] The mirthful mav[is] and the lovesome [larke.] In end, I wold, my voyage being maid, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . |
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