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- Ane doolie sessoun to ane cairfull dyte,
- Suld correspond and be equivalent.
- Richt sa it wes quhen I began to wryte,
- This tragedie, the wedder richt fervent,
- Quhen Aries, in middis of the Lent,
- Schouris of haill gart fra the north discend,
- That scantlie fra the cauld I micht defend.
- Yit nevertheles within myne oratur,
- I stude, quhen Titan had his bemis bricht,
- Withdrawin doun and sylit under cure,
- And fair Venus, the bewtie of the nicht,
- Uprais and set unto the west full richt,
- Hir goldin face, in oppositioun,
- Of God Phebus, direct discending doun.
- Throwout the glas hir bemis brast sa fair,
- That I micht se on everie syde me by.
- The northin wind had purifyit the air,
- And sched the mistie cloudis fra the sky.
- The froist freisit, the blastis bitterly,
- Fra Pole Artick come quhisling loud and schill,
- And causit me remufe aganis my will.
- For I traistit that Venus, luifis quene,
- To quhome sum tyme I hecht obedience,
- My faidit hart of lufe scho wald mak grene,
- And therupon with humbill reverence,
- I thocht to pray hir hie magnificence,
- Bot for greit cald as than I lattit was,
- And in my chalmer to the fyre can pas.
- Thocht lufe be hait, yit in ane man of age,
- It kendillis nocht sa sone as in youtheid,
- Of quhome the blude is flowing in ane rage,
- And in the auld the curage doif and deid,
- Of quhilk the fyre outward is best remeid,
- To help be phisike quhair that nature faillit,
- I am expert, for baith I have assaillit.
- I mend the fyre and beikit me about,
- Than tuik ane drink, my spreitis to comfort,
- And armit me weill fra the cauld thairout.
- To cut the winter nicht and mak it schort,
- I tuik ane quair and left all uther sport,
- Writtin be worthie Chaucer glorious,
- Of fair Creisseid and worthie Troylus.
