O Wreche, be war!

O wreche, be war ! this warld will wend the fro,
Quhilk hes begylit mony greit estait ;
Turne to thy freynd, beleif nocht in thy fo,
Sen thow mon go, be grathing to thy gait ;
Remeid in tyme, and rew nocht all to lait ;
Provyde thy place, for thow away man pass
Out of this vaill of trubbill and dissait :
Vanitas Vanitatum, et omnia Vanitas.

Walk furth, pilgrame, quhill thow hes dayis lycht,
Dress fro desert, draw to thy dwelling-place;
Speid home, for-quhy anone cummis the nicht
Quhilk dois the follow with ane ythand chaise !
Bend up thy saill, and win thy port of grace ;
For and the deith ourtak the in trespas,
Then may thow say thir wourdis with allace !
Vanitas Vanitatum, et omnia Vanitas.

Heir nocht abydis, heir standis no thing stabill,
For this fals warld ay flittis to and fro ;
Now day vp bricht, now nycht als blak as sabill,
Now eb, now flude, now freynd, now cruell fo ;
Now glaid, now said, now weill, now in-to wo ;
Now cled in gold, dissoluit now in ass ;
So dois this warld transitorie go :
Vanitas Vanitatum, et omnia Vanitas.

Finis quod Dunbar.