In Vice most vicius he excellis

In vice most vicius he excellis,
That with the vice of tressone mellis ;
Thocht he remissioun
Haif for prodissioun,
Schame and susspissioun
Ay with him dwellis.

And he evir odious as ane owle,
The falt sa filthy is and fowle;
Horrible to natour
Is ane tratour,
As feind in fratour
Vndir a cowle.

Quha is a tratour or ane theif,
Vpoun him selff turnis the mischeif ;
His frawdfull wylis
Him self begylis,
As in the ilis
Is now a preiff.

The fell strong tratour, Donald Owyr,
Mair falsett had nor vdir fowyr;
Rowme ylis and seyis
In his suppleis,
On gallow treis
Ȝitt dois he glowir.

Falsett no feit hes, nor deffence,
Be power, practik, nor puscence ;
Thocht it fra licht
Be smord with slicht,
God schawis the richt
With soir vengence.

Off the falis fox dissimvlatour,
Kynd hes every theiff and tratour ;
Eftir respyt
To wirk dispyt
Moir appetyt
He hes of natour.

War the fox tane a thousand fawd,
And grace him gevin als oft for frawd,
War he on plane
All war in vane,
Frome hennis agane
Micht non him hawd.

The murtherer ay mvrthour mais,
And evir quhill he be slane he slais ;
Wyvis thuss makis mokkis
Spynnand on rokkis ;
Ay rynnis the fox
Quhill he fute hais.

Finis, quod Dumbar, for Donald Ovre Epetaphe.