Ane satyre of the thrie estaits, in commendation of vertew and vituperation of vyce

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Bungay, 1602 - 172 Seiten
 

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Seite 373 - Readers are asked to protect Library books from rain, etc. Any volumes which are lost, defaced with notes, or otherwise damaged, may have to be replaced by the Reader responsible.
Seite 454 - Duill fell the braine that hes it wrocht, Sa fall them that the Buik hame brocht: Als I pray to the Rude That Martin Luther that fals loun, Black Bullinger and Melancthoun, Had bene smorde in their cude.
Seite 454 - Heir is ane coird, baith great and lang, Quhilk hangit Johne the Armistrang : Of gude hemp soft, and sound : Gude, halie peopill, I stand for'd Quha ever beis hangit with this cord, Neids never to be dround. The culum of Sanct...
Seite 503 - Wanting nocht of my teind ane boll of beir. I gat gude payment of my temporall lands, My buttock-maill, my coattis and my offrands, With all that dois perteine my benefice. Consider now my Lord gif I be wyse.
Seite 455 - Bryd's kow, The gruntill of Sanct Antonis sow, Quhilk buir his haly bell : Quha ever he be heiris this bell clinck, Gif me ane ducat for till drink, He sall never gang to hell, Without he be of Baliell borne : Maisters, trow ye, that this be scorne ! Cum win this Pardoun, cum.
Seite 532 - His leifing for to win. Thair was nocht ane, in all Lidsdaill, That ky mair craftelie culd staill, Quhair thou hings on that pin.
Seite 541 - Bischop wil preich throch all the coast, FOLIE Than stryk ane hag into the poast, For I hard never in all my lyfe, Ane Bischop cum to preich in Fyfe. Gif Bischops to be preichours leiris, Wallaway quhat sail word of freiris?
Seite 531 - I may rew: It gart my heid rin hiddie giddie, Sirs God nor I die in ane widdie, Gif this taill be nocht trew: Speir at the Sowtar Geordie Sillie, Fra tyme that he had fild his bellie, With this vnhelthsum aill. Than all the Baxters will I ban, That mixes bread with dust and bran, And fyne flour with beir maill.
Seite 491 - An halie scriptour schawis plane. And als my Lord it is weill kend, How he did to the heavin ascend, And set him doun at the richt hand Of God the father I understand.
Seite 484 - King sir be coks passioun, I sould gar mak ane proclamatioun, That never ane penny sould go to Rome at all, Na mair then did to Peter nor to Paull.

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