A transcription of the poem is reproduced below. It is taken, with permission, from Professor Priscilla Bawcutt's article, 'A New Scottish Poem: on the literary interest of Timothy Pont's Map 23', Scottish Literary Journal, 20 (1993), 5-20. The full article contains an analysis of the poem. For earthly chance of noy or paine
I nether hop nor zet dispair.
In seikness, helth, or luif or gaine
My God I praise, and do not cair
For weil, for welth, for want, for wo.
I force no friend, I feir no foe.
I suit not whair I come no speid.
[...] or me I wait, I'm frie of charge.
No lyf I hait, no death I dreed,
I nether lake, nor haue to large.
No speich I caire, vpricht I liue,
No wrong I tak, nor zet I giue.
Wher I mislyk I do not kiss,
I coole not for no greid of gaine.
I fayn not wher I favour miss.
I irk not wher I do remain.
My word, my wret, my hairt and hand
Accordis alwayis, in ane to stand.
I cease not wher I frendschip find,
I neuer lowis wher anes I lynk.
I ruyse the foorde as I it find
And plainly speik euen as I think.
I seek no fyre beneth the yse
Nor comptis them chast that makis it nyse.
No beauty braue my hairt doth bind,
I do disdaine no luifsome face,
I knok not where I win not in,
I freely loue where I imbrace.
I sturre not for no stormes do blow,
Nor mountis to hie, nor stoups to low.
Extreames I compt it most vnsuire:
The modest meanes is best of all.
The greater cair, the greater cuire,
The higher vp, the lower fall.
Betuix thir twa who liuis content
Hes moir then Cresus welthy rent.
Which great contentment I ay wish
And all our sowres translate in sweet.
I wold be glaid to heir of this,
I lang to sie that tyme to meit.
Zet friendis ar friendis, thoght fortune move.
Nocht shall dissolue our friendly loue.