‘Be mery, man, and tak nocht fer in mynd’

Be mery, man, and tak nocht fer in mynd
The wavering of this wrechit vale of sorrow.
To God be huimle and to thi frend be kyind,
And with thi nichtbour glaidlie len and borow.
His chance this nicht it may be thine to morow.
Be mery, man, for any aventure,
For be wismen it has bene said afforow:
Without glaidnes avalis no tresure.

Mak gude cheir of it God thee sendis,
For warldis wrak but weilfar nocht avalis.
No thing is thine sauf onlie that thow spendis;
The ramanent of all thow brukis with balis.
Seik to solace quhen saidnes thee assalis.
Thy lyfe in dolour ma nocht lang indure,
Quharfor of confurt set up all thi salis:
Without glaidnes avalis no tresure.

Follow pece, flie trubill and debait,
With famous folkis hald thi cumpany.
Be cheritable and huimle of estait,
For warldis honour lestis bot ane cry.
For truble in erd tak no malancoly.
Be rich in paciens, gife thoue in gudis be pur.
Quha levis mery, he levis michtely:
Without glaidnes avalis no tresur.

Thow seis the vrechis set with sorow and care,
To gadder gudis all thar liffis spaice,
And quhen thar baggis ar full thar self ar bar
And of thar riches bot the keping hes,
Quhill uthiris cum to spend it that hes grace,
Quhilk of the wynning no labour hed na cur.
Tak thow example, and spend with mirrines:
Without glaidnes avalis no tresure.

Thocht all the wrak that evir hed levand wicht
War onlie thine, no mor thi part dois fall
Bot met and clacht, and of the laif ane sicht,
Yet to the juge thow sall mak compt of all.
Ane raknyng richt cummis of ane regimen small.
Be just and joyus and do to none injur,
And treuth sall mak the strang as ony walle:
Without glaidnes avalis no tresure.