The bird, the best, the fisch eke in the see, They live in fredome, everich in his kynd. And I a man, and lakkith libertee. - James I of Scotland

So ferr I fallyng into lufis dance,
That sodeynly my wit, my contenance,
My hert, my will, my nature and my mynd,
Was changit clene ryght in anothir kynd.

Now was there maid fast by the touris wall
A gardyn fair, and in the corneris set
Ane herber grene with wandis long and small
Railit about; and so with treis set
Was all the place, and hawthorn hegis knet.

And therewith kest I doun myn eye ageyne,
Quhare as I sawe, walking under the tour,
Full secretly new cummyn hir to pleyne,
The fairest or the freschest yonge floure
That ever I sawe, me thoght, before that houre,
For quhich sodayn abate anon astert
The blude of all my body to my hert.