Written By Somebody On The Window

Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.

     Here Stuarts once in glory reigned,
     And laws for Scotland's weal ordained;
     But now unroof'd their palace stands,
     Their sceptre's sway'd by other hands;
     Fallen indeed, and to the earth
     Whence groveling reptiles take their birth.
     The injured Stuart line is gone,
     A race outlandish fills their throne;
     An idiot race, to honour lost;
     Who know them best despise them most.