The Gyre Carling

In Tiberius tyme, the trew Imperiour, Quhen Tinto hills fra skraiping of toun-henis was keipit, Thair dwelt ane grit Gyre Carling in awld Betokis bour, That levit upoun Christiane menis flesche and rewt heids unleipit; Thair wynit ane hir by, on the west syde, callit Blasour, For luve of hir lauchane lippis, he walit and he weipit; He gadderit ane menzie of modwartis to warp doun the Tour; The Carling with ane yren club, quhen that Blasour sleipit, Behind the heill scho hatt him sic ane blaw, Quhil Blasour bled ane quart Of milk pottage inwart, The Carling luche, and lut a fart, North Berwick Law.

The king of Fary than come with elfis mony ane, And sett ane sege, and ane salt, with grit pensallis of pryd; And all the Doggis fra Dumbar was thair to Dumblane, With all the tykis of Tervey, come to thame that tyd, They gnew doune with thair gomes mony grit stane: The Carling schup her on ane sow, and is her gaitis gane, Grunting our the Greik sie, and durst na langer byd, For bruklyng of bargane, and braking of browis: The Carling now for dispyte, Is mareit with Mahomyte, And will the doggis interdyte, For scho is Quene of Jowis.

Sensyne the Cockis of Crawmound crew nevir a day, For dule of that devillisch dem wes with Mahoun mareit. And the Henis of Hadingtoun sensyne wald not lay, For this wyld wilroun witch thame widlit sa and wareit; And the same North Berwick Law, as I heir wyvis say, This Carling, with a fals cast, wald away careit, For to luk on quha sa lykis, na langer scho tareit; All this langour for luve before tymes fell, Lang or Betok was born, Scho bred of ane accorne; The laif of the story to morne, To you I sall telle.