When Flora Had O'erfret the Firth

Quhen Flora had o'erfret the firth

In May of every moneth queen;

Quhen merle and mavis singis with mirth

Sweet melling in the shawis sheen;

Quhen all luvaris rejoicit bene

"Strong are the pains I daily prove,

But yet with patience I sustene,

I am so fetterit with the luve

Only of my lady sheen,

Quhilk for her beauty micht be queen,

"She is so bricht of hyd and hue,

I luve but her alone, I ween;

Is none her luve that may eschew,

That blinkis of that dulce amene;

So comely cleir are her twa een