Of ane Blak-Moir

Lang heff I maid of ladyes quhytt,
Now of ane blak I will indytt,
That landet furth of the last schippis ;
Quhou fain wald I descrywe perfytt,
My ladye with the mekle lippis.

Quhou scho is tute mowitt lyk an aip,
And lyk a gangarall unto graip ;
And quhou hir schort catt noiss vp skippis ;
And quhou scho schynes lyk ony saip ;
My ladye with the mekle lippis.

Quhen scho is claid in reche apperrall,
Scho blinkis als brycht as ane tar barrell ;
Quhen scho was born, the sone tholit clippis,
The nycht be fain faucht in hir querrell :
My ladye with the mekle lippis.

Quhai for hir saik, with speir and scheld,
Preiffis maist mychtelye in the feld,
Sall kiss, and withe hir go in grippis ;
And fra thyne furth hir luff sall weld :
My ladye with the mekle lippis.

And quhai in felde receawes schame,
And tynis thair his knychtlie name,
Sall cum behind and kiss hir hippis,
And newir to wther confort clame :
My ladye with the mekle lippis.

Quod Dumbar of ane blak-moir.