Sonnet 67. Eyechiel Montg. Ansueir to Ladyland Beloued brother, I haif sene jour bill. And smyld to sie the Sonet that je send. I sie jow skornfull, thoght je haif no sk[ill,] Becaus to play the poet je pretend. Bot sen je craiv jour cunning to be [kend,] Come on, companion ; I becall jour crak[s :] For all the poeme, pleuman, je haif pe[nd,] I am ouer sair for jou and other sax. To match Montgomerie, thoght a mint [thou maks,] Thou menes be me thy maich, and mair nor match ; Hou beit thou brave vs, bour ! behind our baks, No man invyis our weilfair, bot a wrech. Mell not with vs, vhose heads weirs l[aurel . . .] Our Muse drinks wyne, vhen thyn bot suims in suaits. If I haif shod jou strait, or on a vane, Gar Peter Barkley drau the naill agane |
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