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.