Classic Poem

VI
I mend the fyre and beikit me about,
Than tuik ane drink my spreitis to comfort,
And armit me weill fra the cauld thair-out.
To cut the winter nicht and mak it schort,
I tuik ane quair--and left all uther sport--
Written be worthie Chaucer glorious
Of fair Creisseid and worthie Troylus.
VII

And thair I fand, efter that Diomeid
Ressavit had that lady bricht of hew,
How Troilus neir out of wit abraid
And weipit soir with visage paill of hew;
For quhilk wanhope his teiris can renew
Quhill Esperus rejoisit him agane.
Thus quhyle in joy he levit, quhyle in pane.
VIII

Of hir behest he had greit comforting,
Traisting to Troy that scho suld mak retour,
Quhilk he desyrit maist of eirdly thing,
For-quhy scho was his only paramour.
But quhen he saw passit baith day and hour
Of hir ganecome, than sorrow can oppres
His wofull hart in cair and hevines.
IX

Of his distres me neidis nocht reheirs,
For worthie Chauceir in the samin buik,
In gudelie termis and in joly veirs,
Compylit hes his cairis, quha will luik.
To brek my sleip ane uther quair I tuik
In quhilk I fand the fatall destenie
Of fair Cresseid, that endit wretchitlie.
X

Quha wait gif all that Chauceir wrait was trew?
Nor I wait nocht gif this narratioun
Be authoreist or fenyeit of the new
Be sum Poeit, throw his inventioun,
Maid to report the lamentatioun
And wofull end of this lustie Creisseid,
And quhat distres scho thoillit, and quhat deid.
XI

Quhen Diomeid had all his appetyte
And mair fulfillit of this fair ladie,
Upon ane uther he set his haill delyte
And send to hir ane lybell of repudie
And hir excludit fra his companie.
Than desolait scho walkit up and doun,
And sum men sayis into the court commoun.
XII

O fair Cresseid, the flour and A per se
Of Troy and Grece, how was thow fortunait
To change in filth all thy feminitie,
And be with fleschelie lust sa maculait,
And go amang the Greikis air and lait,
Sa giglotlike takand thy foull plesance?
I have pietie thow suld fall sic mischance.