Sexten salis arayit all on raw,
In colour reid, and towart him couth draw.
The gliterand son apon thaim schawit brycht,65
The se about enlumynyt with the lycht.
This mannis spreit was in ane extasy,
Doun went he sone, and said full sorowfully;
“Allace,” quoth he, “the day that I was born!
“With out rameid our lywys ar forlorn.70
“In cursyt tym I tuk this cur on hand;
“The best chyftayn, and reskew off Scotland,