He kend not quhat to thynk or saye,

Or quhat did him beseime,

But he walkit throu this weirye worild

Lyke ane that is in a dreime.

Quhan seuin lang yearis, and seuin lang daies,

Had slowlye cumit and gane,

He walkit throu the gude grene wode,

And he walkit all alane;

He turnit his fece unto the skie,

And the teire stude in his ee,