Now of wemen this I say for me,
Of erthly thingis nane may bettir be.
Thay suld haif wirschep and grit honoring
Of men aboif all uthir erthly thing.
Rycht grit dishonour upoun himself he takkis
In word or deid quhaevir wemen lakkis,
Sen that of wemen cumin all ar we;
Wemen ar wemen and sa will end and de.
Wo wirth the fruct wald put the tre to nocht,
And wo wirth him rycht so that sayis ocht
Of womanheid that may be ony lak,
Or sic grit schame upone him for to tak.
Thay us consaif with pane, and be thame fed
Within thair breistis thair we be boun to bed;
Grit pane and wo and murnyng mervellus
Into thair birth thay suffir sair for us;
Than meit and drynk to feid us get we nane
Bot that we sowk out of thair breistis bane.
Thay ar the confort that we all haif heir -
Thair may no man be till us half so deir;
Thay ar our verry nest of nurissing.
In lak of thame quha can say ony thing,
That fowll his nest he fylis, and for thy
Exylit he suld be of all gud cumpany;
Thair suld na wyis man gif audience
To sic ane without intelligence.
Chryst to His fader He had nocht ane man;
Se quhat wirschep wemen suld haif than.
That Sone is Lord, that Sone is King of Kingis,
In Hevin and erth His majestie ay ringis.
Sen scho hes borne Him in hir halines,
And He is well and grund of all gudnes,
All wemen of us suld haif honoring,
Service and luve, aboif all uthir thing.
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