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Poem by Alexander Montgomerie
Sonnet 30. Christen Lyndesay to Ro. Hudsone
Oft haive I hard, bot ofter fund it treu, That courteours kyndnes lasts bot for a vhyle. Fra once jour turnes be sped, vhy then adeu ; Jour promeist freindship passis in exyle. Bot, Robene, faith, je did me not beguyll ; I hopit ay of jou as of the lave : If thou had wit, thou wald haif mony a wyle, To mak thy self be knaune for a knaive. Montgomrie, that such hope did once conceave Of thy guid-will, nou finds all is forgotten. Thoght not bot kyndnes he did at the craiv, He finds thy friendship as it rypis is rotten. The smeikie smeithis cairs not his passit trauel, Bot leivis him lingring, déing of the gravell.
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