# Prophecies of Thomas the Rhymer (3)/Chapter 3

Thomas the Rhymer's
PROPHECIES,
IN VERSE.
1Scotland be sad now and lament, For honours thou hast lost, But yet rejoice in better times, Which will repay the cost.
2Tho' unto thraldom you should be, Brought by your enemies;
You shall have freedom from them all, And enjoy your liberties.
3The grave of the most noble Prince, To all is great regret,
The subject to law, who doth leave The kingdom and estate.
4O anguish great! where every kind And ages doth lament:
Whom bitter death has ta'en away, Shall Scotland sore repent.
5Lately a land of rich increase, A nation stout and true,
Has lost their former dear estate, Which they did hold of due.
6By hard conflict, and by the stance Of noble Fortune's force.
Thy hap and thy prosperity May turn into worse.
7Tho' wont to won, may be subdued, And come in under yoke;
Strangers may reign, and you destroy, What likes him by sword's stroke.
8A foreign foe whom neither thy force. Nor manners do approve,
Woe is to thee, by guile and slight, Will only win above.
9This mighty nation was to-fore, Invincible and stout; Will yield slowly to destiny, Great pity is but doubt.
10In former age the Scots renown Did flourish goodly gay; But yet, alas! will be overcome With a great dark decay.
11Then mark and see what is the cause Of this so wond'rous fall! Contempt of faith, falsehood, deceit, The wrath of God withal.
12Unsatiable greed of worldly gain. Oppression, cries of poor; A perpetual and slanderous race, No justice put in ure.
13The haughty pride of mighty men, Of former vice chief cause. The nutriture of wickedness, An unjust match of laws.
14Therefore this cause the prophets Of long time did presage; And now has happen'd every point Into your present age.
15Since fate is so, now Scotland learn In patience to abide Slanders, great fears, and sudden plagus And great dolours beside.
16For out of thee shall people rise, With divers happiness; And yet a pen can scarcely write, Thy hurt, skaith, and distress.
17And yet beware thou not distrust, Altho' o'erwhelm'd with grief, Thy stroke is not perpetual, For thou shah find relief.
18I do suppose, altho' too late, Old prophecies shall hold, Hope thou in God's goodness evermore, And mercies manifold.
19For thou that now a patient is, And seemeth to be bound; At liberty shall free be set, And with empire be crown'd.
20From high above shall grace come down, And thy state, Scotland, be, In latter ends, more prosperous Than former age did see.
21Old prophecies foretell to thee, A warlike heir he's born, Who shall recover new your right, Advance this kingdom's horn.
22Then shall fair Scotland be advanc'd Above her enemies power; Her cruel foes shall be dispersed And scatter'd from her bower.
23Fair Scotia's enemies may invade, But not escape a plague: With sword, and thirst, and tears, and pest, With fears, and such like ague.
24And after enemies thrown down, And mastered in war, Then Scotland in peace and quietness, Pass joyful days for ever,
But that the curious may be more fully informed concerning the aforesaid predictions, with respect to their being exactly fulfilled, they are referred to the Scottish Histories.
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