Sa is he past from pane to plesure ay,
And till greit eis doubtles vntill him sell,
Bot for ane plague till vs I dair weill say,
As sair I feir we sall heir schortly tell,
Schir wink at vice[395] beginnis to tune his bell.
Bot on this heid na mair I will digres,
That gude men hes mair rest in all perrell
Nor wickit in thair welth bot vprichtnes.
Then sen alwayis we se that men ar sure
Throw vprichtnes quhidder thay liue or die,