“Gin ony man bide‐na in me, he is cuisten oot as a fushionless branch, and dwines awa; and folk soop them thegither, and set them alowe, and they are brunt.
Thir are they that are like hidlin rocks at yere love‐feasts, whan they feast wʼye; shepherds feedin theirsels withoot shame; cluds wantin moisture, by the winds driven on; trees oʼ the leaf‐faʼin, wantin frute, twice deid, rived up by the rutes;