Scotlands Loyalty; Or, Sorrowful Sighs On the Death of our late Soveraign His Sacred Majesty; CHARLES II. By the Grace of God, KING of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, &c.
LEt Musick cease; yet let true Subjects Sing
Sad Ela's Note (in Sorrow) for our King;
Whom (to the worth) no Poet can bemoan,
Though all the Seas were turn'd to Helicon.
But there's no need our Sorrows to Infuse,
Or strain Elogiums from a Mournful Muse
In Stubborn Hearts; The cause of our sad Grief
Brings Floods of Tears, though in the end Relief.
Great CHARLES is Dead, who was Great Britains King,
Great in Exploits, who Trophies great did bring,
Of PEACE and Plenty to His own Three Realms;
Through storms of State, which he did turn to Calms.
Our by-past Prophesies did point Him forth,
Preceding Kings were Shadows of His worth:
Then cast up Virtues to one total sum;
Perfections Product will be found in Him.
We will Engrave His Name in Marble Pure,
With Diamond of the Black-Rock, to endure
Till after Ages; that our Children may
Pay Tears (for Tribute) to His Sacred Clay,
Could Men in Arms our Sorrows stroak assail,
Or floods of Tears with Cruel Death prevail,
We'd Muster all our Forces then with speed,
And Weeping Eyes should overflow the Tweed.
But sure the King of Kings hath giv'n the stroak,
And Mortals cannot Destiny revoke.
We'll kiss the Rod; though we the smart regrate,
Submitting though unto our rigid Fate.
Yet we'll breath doleful Sighs to His sad Herse,
That's dipt in Tears, and Elegiack Verse;
T'immortalize Great CHARLES His Royal Name,
And be Memento's on the Wings of Fame.
Then rest dear Saint, though Dead yet still Alive;
(Though laid in dust,) Times Age thou shalt survive:
Thou'rt mounted high above the World's Renown,
With Kings and Priests, to wear a Cross-less-Crown.
And (though our Grief cannot our loss prevent)
Let this sad Verse but give our Passion vent.
EPITAPH.
HEre lyes Grave, Majestick Dust;
Which (when alive) was Good and Just;
Great CHARLES the Second, Britain's King;
Whose valour makes us Weep and Sing.
His Crown environ'd was with Thorn,
Which makes His Subjects double Mourn.
By Land and Sea he did our Work:
The Fear, and Terrour of the Turk.
He Peace to Europe did restore,
When other Kings had given it or.
Defender of the Faith, that's true.
Until he bad the World adieu.
Let Princes Eternize His Name;
And make his worth their Diadem.
Now since the Sighs that did Eclipse our Skie,
By His Successor's Light begins to flye,
O're Tears we'll Triumph; since our sore doth bring
The surest Salve, which is a Lawful King.
We'll pay Allegiance due on CHARLES His score,
To JAMES the Seventh, and many Millions more.
Printed by Nathaniel Thompson at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden near Charing-Cross, 1685.