The first Muse.
NOW must I mourne for
Gall, since he is gone,
And yee my Gabions help me him to mone;
And in your courses sorrow for his sake,
Whose matchlesse Muse immortall did you make.
Who now shall pen your praise, and make you known?
By whom now shall your vertues be forth-shown?
Who shall declare your worth? Is any able?
Who dar to meddle with Apelles table?
Ai me there's none: And is there none indeed?
Then must yee mourne of force, there's no remeed:
And I, for my part, with you in my turne
Shall keep a dolefull consort whilst ye mourne:
And thus, with echoing voice, shall houle and cry,
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?
Now first my Bowes begin this dolefull song,
No more with clangors let your shafts be flung
In fields abroad, but in my cabine stay,
And help me for to mourn till dying day.
With dust and cobwebs cover all your heads,
And take you to your matins and your beads,
A requiem sing unto that sweetest soul,
Which shines now, sancted, above either pole.
And yee my Clubs, you must no more prepare.
To make you bals flee whistling in the aire,
But hing your heads, and bow your crooked crags,
And dresse you all in sackcloth and in rags,
No more to see the Sun, nor fertile fields,
But closely keep you mourning in your bields,
And for your part the trible to you take,
And when you cry make all your crags to crake,
And shiver when you sing alace for Gall!
Ah if our mourning might thee now recall!
And yee my Loadstones of Lidnochian lakes,
Collected from the loughs, where watrie snakes
Do much abound, take unto you a part,
And mourn for Gall, who lov'd you with his heart:
In this sad dump and melancholick mood
The Burdown yee must bear, not on the flood,
Or frosen watrie plaines, but let your tuning
Come help me for to weep by mournfull cruning.
And yee the rest, my Gabions lesse and more
Of noble kinde, come help me for to roare,
And of my wofull weeping take a part,
Help to declare the dolour of mine heart.
How can I choose but mourne? when I think on
Our games Olympike-like in times agone;
Chieflie wherein our cunning we did try,
And matchlesse skill in noble archerie;
In these our dayes when archers did abound
In Perth (then famous for such pastime found.)
Amongst the first for archers we were known,
And in that art our skil was lowdly blown;
What time Perths credit did stand with the best
And bravest archers, this land hath possest.
We spar'd nor gaines, nor paines for to report
To Perth the worship, by such noble sport:
Witnesse the links of Leith, where Cowper, Grahame,
And Stewart win the price and brought it home;
And in these games did offer ten to three
There to contend: Quorum pars magna fui.
I mourn good Gall, when I think on that stead,
Where yee did haile your shaft unto the head,
And with a strong and stedfast eye and hand
So valiantly your bow yee did command;
A slidrie shaft forth of its forks did fling,
Clank gave the bow, the whistling aire did ring,
The bowlt did cleave the clouds and threat the skyes,
And thence, down falling, to the mark it flies,
Incontinent the aimer gave a token,
The mark was kill'd, the shaft in flinders broken:
Then softlie smyling, good Gall, thus quod I,
Now finde I time my archerie to try,
And heere by solemne vow I undertake,
In token of my love, even for thy sake,
Either to hit the mark, else shall I never,
More with these armes of mine use bow and quiver.
Therewith my ligaments I did extend,
And then a noble shaft I did commend
Unto my bow, then firmelie fixt mine eye,
And closelie leveld at Orions knee,
A star of greatest magnitude, who kend it
So well as I, prayes you be not offended;
(For I did use no magick incantation
For to couduct my shaft I will finde cation.)
Then cleverly my flen soone can I feather,
Upon my left arme was a brace of leather;
And with three fingers hailing up the string,
The bow in semicircle did I bring;
With soft and tender lowse out went the shaft,
Amids the clouds the arrow flew aloft,
And, as directed by a skilfull hand,
With speedie flight the steadfast mark it sand,
The aimer gave his signe, furth-with was known,
The shot was mine, the boult in flinders flown,
Above his shaft, in such difficile stead,
Closely I hit the mark upon the head;
Then on the plain we capreld wonder fast,
Whereat the people gazing were agast;
with kinde embracements, did we thurst and thrimble,
(For in these dayes I was exceeding nimble)
we leapt, we danct, we loudly laught and cry'd:
For in the earth such skill was never try'd
In archerie, as we prov'd in these daies,
Whereby we did obtaine immortall praise.
Then Gossop Gall (quod I) I dar approve
Thou hast a trustie token of my love.
what shall be said of other martiall games?
None was inlaking from whence bravest stemmes,
Victorious trophees, palmes, and noble pynes
Olives and lawrels, such as auncient times
Decor'd the Grecian-victors in their playes,
And worthie Romanes in their brave assayes,
For tryall of their strength, each match'd with other,
Whose beautie was, sweat mix'd with dust together.
Such exercises did content us more
Then if wee had possest King Croesus store.
But O! ye fields my native Perth neerby,
Prayes you to speak, and truely testifie,
What matchlesse skill we prov'd in all these places,
Within the compasse of three thousand paces,
On either side; while as we went a shooting,
And strongly strove who should bring home the booting,
Alongst the flowrie banks of Tay to Amound,
Ay when I hit the mark I cast a gamound;
And there we view the place where some time stood
The ancient Bertha, now ov'rflow'd with flood
Of mightie waters, and that Princely hold
where dwelt King William, by the streame down rold,
Was utterly defac'd, and overthrown,
That now the place thereof scarce can be known.
Then through these haughs of faire and fertile ground,
Which with fruit trees, with cornes, and flocks abound,
Meandring rivers, sweet flowres, heavenly honey,
More for our pastime then to conquesh money
We went a shooting, both through plaine and park,
And never stay'd till wee came to Lowswork:
Built by our mightie Kings for to preserve us,
That thenceforth waters should not drown, but serve us;
Yet condescending it admits one rill
Which all these plaines with cristall brooks doth fill,
And by a conduit large three miles in length
Serves to make Perth impregnable for strength
At all occasions; when her clowses fall,
Making the water mount up to her wall.
When we had viewd this mightie work at randon,
We thought it best these fields for to abandon,
And turning home-wards, spar'd nor dyke nor fowsie
Untill we come unto the boot of Bowsie,
Alongst this aqueduct, and there our station,
We made, and viewd Balhowsies situation,
O'reluking all that spacious pleasant valley,
with flowres damasked, levell as an alley
Betwixt and Perth, thither did we repair
(For why the season was exceeding fair)
Then all alongst this valley did we hye,
And there the place we clearlie did espye.
The precinct, situation and the stead,
where ended was that cruell bloodie fead
Between these cursed clans, Chattan, and Kay
Before King Robert, Iohn; upon the day
Appointed, then and there, where did conveene
Thirtie 'gainst thirtie matcht upon that greene,
Of martiall fellows, all in rageing mood
Like furious Ajax, or Orestes wood,
Alonely arm'd with long two-handed swords,
Their sparkling eyes cast fire in steed of words,
Their horride beards, thrown browes, brusled mustages
Of deadly blowes t'enshew were vive presages.
Thus standing Fortuns event for to try,
And thousands them beholding, one did cry
with loud and mightie voice, Stay! hold your hands!
A little space we pray; The case thus stands;
One of our number is not heere to day;
This suddaine speach did make some little stay
Of this most bloodie bargaine, th'one partie fight
would not unlesse the number were made right
Unto the adverse faction, nor was any
That would it take in hand amongst so many
Beholders of all ranks into that place:
On th'other side none would sustaine disgrace
To be debarred from his other fellowes,
He rather hung seven yeeres upon the gallowes.
Thus as the question stood, was found at length
One Henry wind, for triall of his strength
The charge would take, a sadler of his craft,
I wot not well whether the man was daft,
But for an half french crown he took in hand,
Stoutly to fight so long as he might stand,
And if to be victorious should be tide him,
They should some yeerly pension provide him.
The bargaine holds: and then withall their maine
Their braikens bukled to the fight againe;
Incontinent the trumpets loudlie sounded,
And mightilie the great bag-pipes were winded:
Then fell they to't as fierce as any thunder,
From shoulders armes, and heads from necks they sunder;
All raging there in bloud, they hew'd and hasht,
Their skin coats with the new cut were out•lasht;
And scorning death, so bravely did they fight it,
That the beholders greatlie were affrighted:
But chiefly this by all men was observed,
None fought so fiercely; nor so well deserved
As this their hired Souldier, Henrie Winde,
For by his valour victorie inclinde
Vnto that side; and ever since those dayes
This proverb current goes, when any sayes,
How come you heere? This answere doth he finde,
I'm for mine owne hand, as fought Henrie Winde.
So finely fought he, ten with him escapt,
And of th'other but one, in flood who leapt,
And sav'd himself by swimming over Tay:
But to speak more of this we might not stay.
Thence did we take us to the other hand,
From this divided by a crystall strand:
From whence the King beheld with open sight
The long-time doubtfull event of this fight,
From of his pleasant gardins, flowrie wall,
Which we the guilted Arbor yet do call;
And here some monuments we did descrie,
And ruin'd heaps of great antiquitie:
There stood a temple, and religious place,
And here a palace; but ah wofull cace!
Where murthered was one of the bravest Kings
For wisedome, learning, valour, and such things
As should a Prince adorn; who trads and arts
By men of matchlesse skill brought to thir parts,
From Italie, Low Germanie, and France,
Religion, learning, policie to advance,
King Iames the first, of everlasting name,
Kill'd by that mischant traitour, Robert Grahame,
Intending of his crown for to have rob'd him,
With twentie eight wounds in the breast he stob'd him.
Unnaturall parricide, most bloudie traitour!
Accursed be thou above any creature,
And curst be all, for so it is appointed,
That dar presume to touch the Lords anointed.
This phoenix Prince our nation much decord,
Good letters and civilitie restord,
By long and bloudie wars which were defaced,
His royall care made them be reembraced:
And he this citie mightilie intended
To have inhanc'd, if fates had condescended:
For which if power answer'd good-will, we would
With Gorgias Leontinus raise of gold
A statue to him of most curious frame,
In honour of his dear and worthie name.
He likewise built most sumptuouslie fair
That much renownd religious place, and rare,
The Charterhouse of Perth, a mightie frame,
Vallis virtutis by a mystick name,
Looking alongst that painted spatious field,
Which doth with pleasure profite sweetly yeeld,
The fair south Inch of Perth, and banks of Tay.
This abbayes, stiples, and it's turrets stay
While as they stood (but ah where sins abound
The loftiest pride lyes leveld with the ground!)
Were cunningly contriv'd with curious art,
And quintessence of skill in everie part;
My grandsire many times to me hath told it
He knew their names this mightie frame who moldit:
Italians some, and some were French men borne,
Whose matchlesse skill this great work did adorne.
And living were in Perth some of their race
When that, alace, demolish'd was this place,
For greatnesse, beautie, statlinesse so fair
In Britans Isle, was said, none might compare
Even as Apelles for to prove his skill
In limming Venus with a perfect quill,
Did not on some one beautie take inspection,
But of all beauties borrowed the perfection:
Even so this Prince to policie inclinde,
Did not on some one fabrick set his minde
To make the prototype of his designe,
But from all works did all perfections bring,
And rarest paterns brought from everie part,
Where any brave Vitruvius kyth'd his art,
So that this great and princelie enterprise
Perfections of all models did comprise.
And in this place where he doth buriedly
was kept the Relict wherein he did dye;
His doublet, as a monument reserv'd,
And when this place was raz'd, it was preserv'd:
which afterwards I did see for my part,
with hols through which he stab'd was to the heart.
Then, good Gall, thus quod I, what shew of reason
Mov'd this unnaturall traitour work such treason?
Reason! good Monsier, Gall did thus reply,
Reason! so much in shew I do deny,
Reason! No reason did he have at all,
But wormwood, bitter malice Stygian gall
within this traitours heart did closely lurk,
which moved him this tragedie to work:
And I would truelie tell this wofull storie,
But that my tongue doth faile, mine heart's so sorie:
Yet whiles that we unto the town do go,
Monsier, the true occasion, will I show.
This worthie Prince, according to the taillie
Made by King Robert, when heirs male should faillie,
Of his Son David then Earle of Statherne,
So soone, I say, the King as he did learne,
That heirs male of this David were surceast,
Into these lands he did himself invest:
For David leaving after him no son,
His lands by right come back unto the crown,
Yet after him one daughter did survive,
In mariage which to Patrick Grahame they give,
To whom she bare a son, one Melisse Grahame,
whose parents dying young, Robert did clame,
As uncle, and as tutor, of these lands
To have the charge devolved in his hands:
Which when the king most justlie did deny
To give, and gravelie shew the reason why,
This bloodie traitour from his gorge did spew
Words treacherous, nor to be spoke, nor true.
For which he justlie traitour was declar'd,
But he the Kings authoritie nought car'd,
But more and more pursuing his intent,
To Walter Earle of Athole straight he went,
Whom well he knew to have the like designe,
Above all things for to cut off the king,
And all the race sprung of Eliza Mure,
With witches did consult and sprits conjure,
This to effect, and all th'infernall furies
With draughts and spels, and such unlawfull curies:
At length he finding that incarnat fiend,
Believ'd his response should have stedfast end,
Which was, that he should once before he die
Be crowned King with great solemnitie:
Which came to passe indeed, but not with gold,
For his familiar sprit keept that untold:
Thus these two traitours cruelly did hatch
The treason, which this good king did dispatch.
Both of these traitours at the crowne did aime,
Th'one thought his nephew might it some time claime,
And he without all question would succeed:
For well he knew to cut the fatall threed:
Likewise that other Hell-taught traitour Walter
Believ'd by no meanes his response could alter,
Thus both of them fed with ambitious hopes,
Keep'd secret by themselves their partiall scops,
But mutually this one thing they intend,
The king must die; and heere their thoughts they spend.
But this Earle Walter subtile more than th' other
His quaint designe gan cunningly to smother,
Observing well the Grahames proud haughtie braine,
Greatly aggreag'd the wrongs he did susteine,
Affirming that there was none had a heart
But would avenged be, and for his part
He would assist, and when that turne were ended
Against all deadly Grahame should be defended.
Thus by ambition witcht, and rage demented
This traitour execut what was intented.
Who from the famous Trojan had his name
And from the woods, when he did hear the fame
Of this infamous fact at Edinburgh then
Residing to make peace between these men
Who of the Greeks and Trojans are descended,
O how he was inrag'd! O how offended!
To see so brave a Prince so traiterouslie
Cut off, he roard and rail'd outragiouslie
'Gainst all the nation; but when he justice done
Had seene upon the traitours, then his tune
He quicklie chang'd, now have I seene (said he)
A cruell crime revenged cruellie.
This tragick task, Monsier, in hand to take
Mine eyes do melt in teares, mine heart strings crake,
What! shall I speak of Priam King of Troy
By Pyrrhus kild? that cannot much annoy:
Or shall I of brave Iulius Caesar tell,
whom these two traitours did in Senat kill?
These may affect us with some small compassion,
But for to speak of this is a tentation.
Caesar for valour, learning and meek mind,
And ah too much like Caesar in his end.
Excusa moi, Monsier, mine heart's so sorie,
That I can tell you no more of this storie.
when I think with what gravitie and grace
This tragedie was told, teares weet my face:
And I do wish good Gall, thou were on live,
That with Meonian stile thou mighst descrive
Such memorable acts; or else thy spirit
In some new bodie plac'd, it to inherit:
Ai me, this can not be, which makes me cry,
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?
The second Muse.
But this sad melancholick dis∣quisition
Did not befit our Joviall disposition
In these our dayes: Therefore when we had mourned
For this good King, we to the town returned,
And there to cheere our hearts, and make us merrie,
We kindely tasted of the noble berrie;
Melancholie and grief are great men-killers:
Therefore from Tamarisk, with some capillars
Infusde we drank; for to preserve our splens
From grief, our lungs from cough, and purge our reins.
But this recept Gall did not keep alway,
Which made him die, alace, before his day.
Then home we went unto our beds to rest us,
To morrow againe we to the fields addrest us;
And in my bed as I did dreaming ly,
Me thought I heard with mightie voice, one cry
Arise, Monsier, the day is wondrous fair,
Monsier arise, then answered I, Who's there?
Arise, Monsier, the third time did it call.
Who's there? Quoth I, It is I Master Gall.
Then I awoke, and found it so indeed;
Good morrow Master Gall. Monsier, God speed.
Good Master Gall, Dreames did me much molest
This night, and almost rave me of my rest.
Monsier, quoth Gall, What motion might that be?
Said I, I dream'd I was in archerie
Outmatcht so far, that I was striken dumbe,
For verie grief to be so overcome.
Monsier, said he, That's beene a mightie passion,
That hath you striken dumb in such a fashion.
A passion, so great, that I did sweat,
My sinewes tremble, and my heart did beat.
At length, respiring, these few words did speak,
O noble heart, of force now must thou break!
For to these dayes was never in this land
That did o'rcome this matchlesse maiden hand;
And dreaming, as I grudg'd with Master Gall,
Incontinent a voice on me did call;
Arise Monsior, arise: then I awoke,
And found it was Gals voice unto me spoke,
Which made me doubt, if so could come to passe:
Then answer'd Gall, although your bow were brasse,
That might be done; and I'm the man will do it
What say you Gall? Quod I, then let us to it.
Foorthwith we drest us in our archer grath,
And to the fields we came, like men in wrath:
When we our nerves and tendons had extended,
Incontinent our bowes were bravely bended;
The skie was wondrous cleer, Apollo fair
Greatlie delighted to behold us there:
And did disperse the clouds, that he might see
What matchlesse skill we prov'd in archerie.
The cristall river Phabus beames reflected;
As glad of us, them in our face directed:
The flowrie plains, and mountains, all the while
That we were shutting, meriely did smile.
Meane while, for honours praise as we were swelting
The sweat from of our brows and temples melting,
Phaebus, as seeming to envie our skill,
His quiver with some firie shafts did fill,
And from his silver bow at us he darted
These shafts, to make us faint and feeble hearted:
Whose mightie force we could not well oppose,
Vnder a shade we therefore did repose
A pretie while, hard by a silver streame,
Which did appear some melodie to frame.
Running alongst the snow white pibble stones
Mourning did murmure ioyes, commixt with moanes:
A cup I had of Woodbind of the wall
And drinking, said, This to you Master Gall.
Quoth he, Monsier, sith that we have no better,
With all mine heart I will you pledge in water:
This brook alongst the flowrie plain meanders,
And in a thousand compasses it wanders;
And as it softly slides so many wayes,
It sweetlie sings as many rowndelayes,
And, harmonie to keep, the honie bees
Their trumpets sound amongst the flowres; and trees
Their shadowes from their shaggie tops down sending
Did bow, in token of their homage rendring
But in short while Phaebus his face withdrew;
Then freshly fell we to't again of new,
And kyth most skilfull, and most pleasant game,
While to the lands of Loncartie we came.
Then thus, quod I, Good Gall, I pray thee show,
For cleerly all antiquities yee know,
What meane these skonses, and these hollow trenches
Throughout these fellow-fields, and yonder inches?
And these great heaps of stones, like Pyramids?
Doubtlesse all these yee know, that so much reads.
These trenches be (Gall answering, did reply)
Where these two armies Scots and Danes did ly
Incamped, and these heaps the trophae's be,
Rear'd in memoriall of that victorie,
Admir'd unlook't for, conquest in that day,
Be th'only vertue of a Hynds-man, Hay,
And his two sons, from whence immortall praise
He gain'd, and glory of his name did raise
To all succeeding ages; as is said
Of Briareus an hundreth hands who had,
Wherewith he fought, or rather as we see
A valiant Sampson, whose activitie
With his asse-bone kills thousands, or a Shangar
With his oxe-goad kills hundreths in his anger:
Even so, this war-like wight with oxens yoak
Beats squadrons down by his undaunted stroke,
And did regain the victorie, neere lost,
Vnto the Scots, by his new gathered host
Of fearfull fleers, in a wofull plight,
By his incouragements infusing might
Into their nerves, new spirits in their arters,
To make them fight in bloud unto the garters,
Against their hatefull foes, who for to be
Did fight, more than for price or victorie.
Such cruelties their bloudie hearts possest
To have old quarrells on us Scots redrest,
For utterly quail'd Pights, and for their own
Armies by us so often overthrown.
This worthie chieftains happie enterprise
Which sav'd this countrie from the tyrannies
Of cruell Danes, and his two Mars-like sons
Do for all ages wear the quernall crowns,
Like Thrasibulus; ever bluming bayes
Do adde much splendour to these worthie Hayes.
And alwayes since they for their weapons weild
Three rubrick targets in a silver shield.
Which shield the soaring falcon doth sustaine,
To signifie these three men did obteine
The publick safetie, and the falcons flight
By mounting, shews their worth; by lighting, right
Unto their lands; for honours high regard:
Which in all ages should have due reward.
Like shall all finde, who loyall to the state
And countries well do prove, though small or great:
Men shall them praise, God shall preserve their stemmes,
Immortall fame shall canonize their names.
Thence forward went we unto Campsie-lin,
From whence the river falling makes such din
As Nilus Catadups: There so we sported
It is impossible for to report it:
Whither we walk't, or did we sit, or stand,
Quiver was ty'd to side and bow in hand;
So that none thought us to be mortall wights
But either Phoebus, or fair Phoebe's Knights.
There we admir'd to see the Salmond leap,
And overreach the waters mightie heap,
Which from a mountain falls, so high, and steep,
And tumbling down devals into the deep,
Making the boyling waters to rebound,
Like these great surges neere by Greenland found:
Yet these small fish ov'rcome these watrie mountains,
And kindely take them to their mother fountains,
With what affection everie creature tenders
The native soile! Hence comes great Iove remembers
His cradell Creet, and worthie more than he,
Let th'idle Cretians at their pleasure ly,
Even these most worthie Kings, of mightie race
Come of great Fergus, long to see the face
Of their deare Caledonia, whose soyle
Doth make their kindelie hearts within them boyle,
To view these fields where Martiall men of armes
Great monuments have rear'd, with loud alarmes
Of thundring trumpets, by a hundreth Kings
And seven, one Queen; what auncient Poet sings
The like descent of Princes, who their crowns
And scepters have bestow'd upon their sons
Or neerest kinsmen? Neither is it so
That this continued line had never fo
To interrupt the same, witnesse these standers
That bear the Romane Eagle, great commanders
Of most part of the glob, and cruell Danes
Victorious elsewhere, but not in our plaines,
Pights and old Britans; more than these to tell,
Who in the compasse of this Iland dwell
But, praisde be God, Britaine is now combinde
In faith and truth, one God, one King, one minde.
Let scoffers say that neither wyne nor oyle
(Whose want stay'd conquest) growes within this soyle:
Yet if gold, pearle, or silver better be,
As most men them account, it doth supplee:
Yea things more needfull for mans use it yeelds,
Heards, flocks, and cornes abound heere in our fields,
Wilde beasts in forrests, of all kindes in plentie,
Rare fowls, fruits, fishes, and what else is daintie;
Perpetuall fire; to speak it in a word,
The like no where is found, it doth afford.
Thus providence divine hath it ordained,
That humane commerce may be intertained,
All soyls should have, yet none brings all things forth,
Yea grounds most barren oft have greatest worth
Contained in their bowels: this to tell us,
Non omnia producit omnis tellus.
Hence comes that men their gold for yron change,
And so far from there native countries rainge,
Their softest silk for coursest canvasse give,
Because by commerce men do better live,
Then by such things their native grounds forth measure,
By traffike they do finde more gaine and pleasure:
Yea things more simple much more usefull are,
And for mans well more profitable far.
Thus yron serves for all brave arts, much more
Then gold, let Midas heap it up in store:
And canvasse serves for ventrous navigation,
Where silks are only for cloths green seek fashion,
And though wyne glad the heart, yet stirres it strife,
But graine the staffe is which sustaines our life:
So humane fellowship to intertaine,
Our fishes and our corners bring oile and wyne.
But above all our soile throughout all parts
Beares bravest Chiftans, with couragious hearts:
These be the bar of conquest, and the wall,
Which our most hatefull foes could never scall.
Would you behold one Hanniball o'returne
Fourscore of thousands? looke to Bannokburne:
Or would you see Xerxes his overthrow
And flight by boat? Edward the second know:
Or Carthaginian towres with all their mights
Destroy'd? view Camelon with faithlesse Pights:
Or would yee know great Castriot, whose bones
Could Martiall vertue give, dig'd from the stones,
Where he did buried ly? take for that part
The Brusse and Douglas, carrying his heart
Through many lands, intending it to have
Solemnly buried in the Holy-grave.
This heart though dead, within their hearts begetting
Brave hearts, 'gainst dangers their bold breasts outsetting.
Would you a King for zeale unto Gods house
Like Israels David? Our Saint David chuse.
Or know King Iames the first, like Iulius Caesar,
Or Gregorie like Alexander; these are
With many more the worthies, whose renown
By martiall deeds have keeped close this crown.
Yea more to speak of such heroick themes,
Who knoweth not the worthie great King Iames
Of Britains union first; whose vertues great
Were more than equall to his royall seat;
Whose matchlesse wisedome, and most learned quill
Did nectar and ambrosia distill,
And ravisht with amazements all who heard him,
But most for active prudence all admir'd him.
Happie in all his life, whose worthie name
A peaceable Augustus did proclaime.
Who conquered more by wit, than by the sword,
And made all Europe muuh regard his word.
And good King Charles the son of such a Father,
Thrise happie by thy Virgine Crown; yea rather
More happie, if more happinesse can be,
In earthly things, by thy high pedegrie;
But most of all by Heaven, which hath appointed
This maiden crown for thee, the Lords Anointed,
The man of his right hand, and for thy seed,
Which God mot blesse and all who shall proceed
Forth of thy loines, and stablish in thy place
So long as Sun and Moone shall run their race.
Then reigne, great Charles, our nostrels sweetest breath,
Long may thou reigne Defender of the Faith,
Inthron'd among these worthie peerlesse pearles,
And let all say, God save our good King Charles;
And deeply in his heart imprint that zeale,
To make the law supreame the peoples well.
What shall we speak of Martiall Chiftans more?
Of Gideons, and of Sampsons we have store,
Whom God did raise, for to defend our state
Miraculously, in times most desperate.
What braver Hector, or more brave Achilles
In Greece, or Phrygia, than Sir William Wallace?
And Iohn the Grahame, his mate, and brother sworn,
Whose living fame his name doth much adorn?
And if we list this subject more to handle,
What Governour like good Earle Thomas Randall?
Or doughtie Douglas with couragious heart,
Whose name wrought dreadfull terrour in each part?
But this heroick theme, so passing great,
Impossible it is all to relate,
Our worthie rulers even unto thir dayes
They do not want their own deserved praise,
Nor shall they for my part want due renown,
Vertue t'advance, and vice to trample down.
These be the wall of Gods own work and framing
Against our foes, and of his own maintaining,
Wherefore we blesse his holy Name that made us,
And pray that never forraine scepter lead us,
T'impose hard lawes, and tributaries make us,
To chastise us with scorpions, and to rake us;
And likewise pray, that Ajax-like, we would not
Undo our selves, which all our enemies could not.
But O dear Caledonia! What desire
Have all men who have heard thy fame t'admire
Thy monuments? How much more these who be
Thy sons, desire thy maiden soile to see?
Thy maiden castle, and fair Maiden burgh,
The stately winged Citie, which is through
All ages much renow'nd with streets so fair,
And palaces so mounted in the air
That if the deepnesse of imagination
Could limme a landskape by deep meditation,
Scarce could it match, where bravest youths abound,
And gravest counsellours are alwayes found:
Where Justice joineth hand with true Religion,
And golden vertue keep the middle region,
As register, where these acts are enrold,
Better than in Corinthian brasse or gold.
Let Poetaster-parasits, who fain,
And fawn, and crouch, and coutch, and creep for gain,
And, where no hope of gain is, huffe, and hur,
And bark against the Moone as doth a Cur;
Let such base curs, who nought but gobbets smell,
Wish the disgrac'd, and deeply sunk in hell
Whether themselves do go; yet shalt thou stand,
And see them ruin'd all that thee withstand:
God shall be-friend thy friends, and shall all those
Aray with shame that causelesse be thy foes:
Thou art this ancient Kingdomes bravest part,
For wit and worth thou art its hand and heart,
And who the Kingdomes compend brave would see
Needs do no more but survey take of thee.
Hence these desires fair Caledonias soile
To view, where bravest stratagems with toile
Have acted beene, hence comes these kindly wishes,
To see these fields, even like these kindly fishes,
Which we behold ov'rcome this mightie lin,
And seeke the fountaines where they did begin.
The third Muse.
Thus as wee did behold the Salmond sporting,
Wee spyed some Countrie clowns to us resorting,
Who striken were with suddain admiration
To see us graithed in such antique fashion,
Their stairing eyes grew blinde, their tongues were dumb,
A chilling cold their senses did benumme.
Said we, What moves you Ghosts to look so griesly?
They scarcely muttering, answered, and not wisely,
Oft have we heard of such strange wights as yee,
But to this time we did them never see,
If yee be men or not, scarce can we tell,
Yee looke like men, yet none such heere do dwell.
Then said good Gall, Monsier, these fellowes stupid,
Doubtlesse take me for Mars, and you for Cupid;
Therefore let us be gone, we will not tarie,
Yon clownes will swear that they have seene the Farie
When they come home at night, and by the fire
Will tell such uncouth tales, all will admire,
Both man and wife, the laddes and all the lasses,
For be yee sure such clownes are verie asses.
Thence downe the river bank as we did walk,
And mirrielie began to chant and talk,
A prettie boat with two oares we espy'd
Fleeting upon the waters, then we cry'd,
HOW boatman come; two fisher men neerby
Thus answered us againe, And who doth cry?
Said we, Good friends, to favour us delay not,
The day is verie hot, and walk we may not,
Therefore your kindly courtesie implores,
To let us have these little pair of oares
For down the river we would make our way,
And land at Perth, With all our heart, said they,
For we likewise at Perth would gladly be,
Only we want such companie as yee.
All men were glad of us, none did refuse
What ever thing it pleasde us ask or chuse,
Then we inbarked with two boyes in train,
Who recollect our shafts, and these two men:
Page 27 As down the river did we softlie slide,
The banks most sweetly smyld on other side:
To see the flowres our hearts did much rejoice
The banwort, dazie, and the fragrant rose;
Favonius in our faces sweetlie blew
His breath, which did our fainting sprits renew.
Then with Sicilian Muse can we dissemble
Our secret flammes, making our voices tremble;
While as we sweetlie sung kinde Amaryllis,
And did complaine of sowre-sweet lovely Phyllis,
So sadly, that the Nymphs of woods and mountains,
And these which haunt the plains and crystall fountains
Bare-legged to the brawns, armes bare and brest,
Like whitest evorie bare unto the waste,
The lillies and the roses of their faces
Running more pleasant made, their waveing tresses,
Well curled with the winde: all these drew nye
The waters brink, in song to keep reply,
Treading the flowres, When Gall them so espy'd
O! how he cast his eyes on either side.
And wish't t'have smeld one flowr, where they had traced,
Judge what he would have given to have embraced.
But chiefly Echo fettred was in love,
At everie word we spoke her tongue did move,
Then did we call, Sweet Nymph, pray thee draw nye?
She answeering us most willingly, said, I
Draw neere said Gall, for gladlie would I please thee,
Do not deny to heare me. She said ease thee,
Then comesweet Nymph, thy face faine would I know,
She quickly answering him againe, said, No.
Why so, said he? Heere is there no Narcissus.
To this her old loves Name did answer, kisse us.
Kisse us, said he, with all my heart, againe.
This is the thing I would: she answered, Gaine:
Gaine! such a gaine, said he, I crave alway;
No countenance she shews, yet answers ay;
And bashfuly obscures her blushing face,
Lest from Cephisus son she finde disgrace.
But if that she had known Gals tender minde,
She had not prov'd so bashfull and unkinde.
When ended were our songs with perfite close,
We thought it best to merrie be in prose;
Then seriously and truely to discourse,
Of diverse maters grave, we fell by course,
But chiefly of this blinde worlds practice bad,
Preferring unto learning any trade.
For these evill times hold not in such account
Men learned, as the former ages wont:
But if the worth of learning well they knew,
Good Gall (quoth I) they would make much of you,
In Poetrie so skild, and so well red
In all antiquitie, what can be said
Whereof you fluently can not discourse,
Even like the current of this rivers course?
Things absent you can present make appear,
And things far distant; as if they were near,
Things senselesse unto them give sense can yee,
And make them touch, taste, smell, and heare, and see:
What can not Poets do? They life can give
And after fatall stroke can make men live;
And if they please to change their tune or note,
They'le mak mens names on earth to stink and rote.
Who did fixe Hercules amongst the stars?
And Diomedes for his wit in wars
Made equall to the gods? But odious
For vice Thersites vile, and Sisyphus?
These were th'immortall muses, who do sing,
As vice and vertue do their subjects bring,
Therefore this counsell wisedome doth impart you,
Flee filthie vice and intertaine fair vertue.
Yet 'tis not so that everie spirit fell
Whose wicked tongue is set on fire of Hell,
Nor everie Momus, nor Archilochus,
Whose mouths do vomite venome poysonous,
Hath inspiration of the sacred Muses,
Such wickednesse th' Aonian band refuses:
But he who vice most gravely censure can,
And vertues praise advance in any man
With perfect numbers, such one is a Poet,
But in thir dayes, alace, few men do know it,
Like my dear Gall: who gravely did reply
A good Mecaenas lets not Poets die,
Poets make men on gold wing'd fame to flie
When lands with losse; life chang'd with death shall be.
As we thus talk'd our berge did sweetly passe
By Scones fair pallace, sometimes Abbay was:
Strange change indeed, yet is it no new guyse,
Both spirituall lands and more to temporise.
But pallace fair, which doth so richly stand,
Where gardens, orchards, parks on either hand,
Where flowres, and fruits, the hart, and fallow deere,
For smell, for taste, for venison and cheere,
The nose, the mouth, and palate which may please,
For gardine chambers for delight and ease,
Damask't with porphyrie and alabaster,
Thou art not subject for each Poetaster,
But for a Poet, Master in his art,
Which thee could whole descrive, and everie part,
So to the life, as t'were in perspective,
As readers that they see thee might beleeve.
Meane while our boat doth with the river slide
The countrie Nymphs who in these parts abide,
With many a shout moving both head and hand
Did us invite, that we would come a land.
Not now, said we; and think it not disdaine
For we do promise for to come againe,
And view where some time stood your Cathedrall,
And mount, which Omnis terra you do call.
Just by this time we see the bridge of Tay
O happie sight indeed, was it that day;
A bridge so stately, with elleven great arches,
Joining the south and north, and commoun march is
Unto them both, a bridge of squared stone,
So great and fair; which when I think upon,
How in these dayes it did so proudly stand,
Ov'rlooking both the river and the land;
So fair, so high, a bridge for many ages
Most famous; But alace, now through the rages
Of furious swelling waters, thrown in deep,
Mine heart for sorrow sobs, mine eyes do weep.
And if my tongue should cease to cry and speak,
Undoubtedlie my grief-swoln heart would break.
But courage, Monsier, my good Genius sayes,
Remember yee not how Gall in those dayes
Did you comfort, lest melancholious fits
Had you opprest, your spleen so neerelie sits,
And told you in the yeer threescore thirteene
The first down-fall this Bridge did ere sustaine,
By ruine of three arches nixt the town,
Yet were rebuilt. Thereafter were thrown down
Five arches in the yeer fourescore and two,
Reedified likewise, and who doth know
Monsier, but ah, mine heart can scarcelie sober!
Even that great fall the fourteenth of October,
Six hundred twentie one, repaird may bee,
And I do wish the same that I might see:
For Britaines Monarch will it sure repair,
Courage therefore, Monsier, do not despare;
Is't credible to bee believ'd or told,
That these our Kings, who did possesse of old
Scotland alone, should such a work erect
And Britaines mightie Monarch it neglect?
Absurd it is to think, much more to speak it;
Therefore good Monsier yee do far mistake it;
For never had yee King was more inclinde
To do great works; nor of a braver minde,
Providing he can have due information,
His word will prove of powerfull operation:
For Kings are Gods on Earth, and all their actions
Do represent th'Almighties great perfections.
Page 32 ^
Thus Gals sweet words often do me comfort,
And my good Genius truely doth report
Them unto me, else sure my splene should wholly
Be overcome with fits of melancholie;
Therefore I courage take, and hope to see
A bridge yet built, although I aged be,
More stately, firme, more sumptuous, and more fair,
Then any former age could yet compare:
Thus Gall assured me it would be so,
And my good Genius truely doth it know:
For what we do presage is not in grosse,
For we be brethren of the Rosie Crosse;
We have the Mason word, and second sight,
Things for to come we can foretell aright;
And shall we show what mysterie we meane,
In fair acrosticks CAROLUS REX, is seene
Describ'd upon that bridge, in perfect gold:
By skilfull art; this cleerelie we behold,
With all the Scutcheon of great Britaines King,
Which unto Perth most joyfull news shall bring,
Loath would we be this mysterie to unfold
But for King Charles his honour we are bold.
And as our Boat most pleasantly did passe
Upon the cristall river, clear as glasse,
My dearest Gall, quoth I, long time I spend
Revolving from beginning to the end
All our records, yet searching can not finde
First when this bridge was built; therefore thy minde
Faine would I know: for I am verie sorie
Such things should be omitted in our storie.
Monsier, said Gall, things many of that kinde
To be omitted often do we finde:
Yea time hath also greatest works destroyed,
Wherein the learn'dest pennes have beene imployed.
But if that I should tell what I do know,
An ancient storie I could to you show,
Which I have found in an old manuscript,
But in our late records is overslipt,
Which storie no lesse probable is, than true,
And, my good Monsier, I will show it you.
I leave to speak what Hollinshed hath told
Of Cunidag, was Britaine king of old,
The time Vzziah was of Iuda king,
And Ieroboam did ov'r Israel reigne,
Ere Rome a citie was yeers fourtie five,
Ere sons of Rhea did for masterie strive,
How that this Heathen built three cels of stone,
To Mercurie at Bongor built he one,
His way for to direct: then to Apollo
At Cornuel another did he hallow,
For favourable response: the third to Mars,
Where Perth now stands, for to assist his wars.
But good Monsier this storie is too old,
Therefore I leave the rest of it untold,
The time will not permit me to out-read it,
I'm sure in Hollinshed yee often read it.
I will a storie of no lesse credite tell,
In after ages truely what befell.
When mightie Romaines came into this soile,
With endlesse labour and undaunted toile,
After great conflicts and uncertaine chance
Of Fortunes dye, they did in armes advance,
At length unto these parts where Perth doth stand
Under the conduct and victorious hand
Of that most valiant Chieftain of great fame
Brave Iulius Agricola by Name.
And there hard by a river side they found
The fairest and most pleasant plot of ground,
That since by bank of Tiber they had beene,
The like for beautie seldome had they seene,
Of eighteene hundreth paces good, in length,
From Muretowne brays to foot of Carnaks strength,
King of the Pights, which stood on Moredune hill,
The foot thereof from Friers dwelt thereintill
Now named is, in breadth eight hundreth paces,
Painted with white, red, yellow flowrie faces,
So equall fair; which when they did espy,
Incontinent they Campus Martius cry,
And as an happie presage they had seene,
They fixt their tents amidst that spatious greene,
Right where now Perth doth stand, and cast their trenches
Even where Perths fowsies are, between these inches,
The south and north, and bastalies they make,
The power and strength of Scots, and Pights to brake,
Who presently would fight, by wise cunctation
They frustrat all their hope and expectation:
For well this most victorius Romaine knew
T'abate his Enemies rage and courage too.
Finding the place even to their hearts desire,
With grasse for pasture stor'd, and wood for fire,
The river likewise verie opportune
For lighter vessels to passe up and downe,
And correspondence with their Navie make,
As Souldiers wise, they all occasions take,
And do conclude to winter in that place,
To foile their foes, by voluntarie chace.
Meane while couragiously they do advise
A bridge to build, for further enterprise,
Then forthwith fall they with redoubling stroaks
To fell the tall firre trees, and aged oaks;
Some square the timber with a stretched line,
Some do the tenons, and the morties joine,
Some frame an ovall, others make a cub,
Some cut a section, other some do grub,
Some with great compasse semicircles forme,
Some drive the wadges, painfullie some worme,
Some do hoyse up the standers, others fixe them;
And some lay goodly rafters ov'r betwixt them;
What strength or skill can work, from point to point
They cunningly contrive with angular joint,
And do most strongly binde these contignations,
To make them stand against all inundations.
All men are set on frame, all hands are working,
And all ingines are bussied without irking.
Thus in short space, a bridge they strongly make,
With passage fair; and for their safeties sake
A mightie strength to be, they frame withall,
On either end, a bridge to lift and fall,
That souldiers might within it keep at ease,
Admitting, or repelling, as they please
Thus fortified, lest that they should neglect
Due honour to their gods, they did erect
To Mars a temple, rather did restore
The temple built by Cunidag before:
For time on all things worketh demolition,
And heathen men maintaine like superstition.
Then did this valiant chiftaine name the river
In Italies remembrance Neo-Tiber.
Which afterwards it kept for many a day,
How long I know not, now its called Tay.
Likewise an house of mightie stone he framed,
From whence our Castell-gavell, as yet is named.
And, if Domitian had not cald him home,
I think he should have built another Rome.
But all these monuments were worne away
Ere did King William Perths foundation lay,
Only Mars temple stood upon that greene,
And th'house built by Agricola was seene,
And some characters cunningly incisde
With Iulius Agricola imprisde
In solid marmor, and some print was found,
Where camped had an armie, and the ground
Where there had beene a bridge: all which did yeeld
Occasion to King William for to beild,
After old Bertha's overthrow, that citie,
These ancient walls, and famous bridge; ah pitie
If they were as! But what doth not the rage
Of men demolish and consuming age?
For good King William seeing where had beene
Of old a passage, forthwith did ordaine
A mightie bridge of squaired stone to be.
These famous wals and fusies which we see,
Perth his chief strength to make, and seat of power
Did with most ample priviledge indue her.
These be the first memorials of a bridge,
Good Monsier, that we truely can alledge.
Thus spake good Gall and I did much rejoice
To heare him these antiquities disclose;
Which I remembring now, of force must cry,
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?
The fourth Muse.
THis time our boat passing too nigh the land,
The whirling streame did make her run on sand,
Aluif, we cry'd, but all in vain, t'abide,
We were constrain'd, till flowing of the tide.
Then Master Gall, quod I, even for my blessing
Now let us go, the pretious pearles a fishing,
Th'occasion serveth well, while heere we stay
To catch these mussels, you call toyts of Tay:
It's possible, if no ill eye bewitch us
We jewels finde, for all our dayes t'enrich us:
The waters here are shald, and clear, and warme,
To bath our armes and lims will do no harme,
For these sweet streames have power to bring back
Our spirits which in outward parts make slake
Our naturall strength, but when these sprits retire
They multiplie our heat and inbred fire,
Helping our vitall, and our naturall parts,
Our lungs, our levers, stomachs, and our hearts,
And mightily refrigerat our reanes,
But above all they do refresh our spleans.
For such a bathing bravely doth expell
Melancholie, which makes the splean toswell.
More than it should, causing an atrophie,
That we like skelets rather seeme to be
Then men, and Atropos appears to laugh,
Thinking we look liker an Epitaph,
Then marriage song; likewise it doth us make
Both supper and collation freshly take.
Content said Gall: Then off our shoes we drew,
And hose, and from us we our doublets threw,
Our shirt sleeves wreathing up, without more speeches,
And high above our knees pulling our breeches,
In waters go, then streight mine armes I reach
Unto the ground, whence cleaverly I fetch
Some of these living pearled shels, which do
Excell in touching and in tasting too,
As all who search do by experience try,
And we oftimes; therewith I lowdlie cry,
Good Master Gall, behold I found a pearle,
A Jewell, I assure you, for an Earle.
Be silent, said good Gall, or speak at leasure,
For men will cut your throat to get your treasure,
If they its worth did know so well as I.
Harpocrates my patience will try,
Said I againe, for I am not like such
Who hurd their treasure and their speach asmuch.
But Gall, to stay long, no wayes could be mov'd
This element, said he, I never lov'd.
To land: on goeth our cloaths, alongst the way
Then did we go, and taking cleare survey
How proper Perth did stand, one might have drawn
Its landship fair, on paper, or on lawn.
Good Gall, said I, ofttimes I heard of old
To be of truth these things ere while you told:
But of these wals I doubt that which you said
That good King William their foundations layd.
Their founding is more late, I you assure;
That we from strangers rage may be secure,
They builded were, even then when Iames did reigne
The second, and in minor age was king,
Vpon a bloodie slaughter, I hear tell,
Which twixt our town and highland men befell;
For taking, as the custome was, a staig
At Midsummer; said Gall, Monsier, you vaig.
Which word indeed my spleane almost did move:
Then Gall, said I, if that I did not love
You most intirely, I would be offended.
Said he, good Monsier, Would you have it mended?
Then I that storie will you truely tell,
And if I faile so much as in a spell,
Speak all your pleasure, I my peace shall hold,
An• grant my tongue in speaking was too bold:
Therefore Monsier, be not so much annoy'd,
These walls have oft been built, and oft destroy'd
And stratagems of war have acted been,
As worthie as the world hath heard or seene.
By Sojours as good as the Earth hath born,
This boldly to avow I dar be sworn:
Englands first Edwards three can shew the same,
And Scotlands Wallace, Bruce, and Stewarts fame,
Whose prowes within this Isle were not confin'd
The Netherlands and France scarce them contain'd,
Nor other parts of Europ, and it's cleare
What great exploits they bravelie acted heere,
These stories are well known, I must not slack,
For by and by the tide will call us back,
When Edward Langshanks Scotland did surprise,
The strengths first did he take, as Chiftaine wise,
But his cheif strength to keep both South and North
Low-lands and high-lands on this side of Forth,
Perth did he chuse, and stronglie fortifie
With garisons of foot and chavalrie.
And what the former times could not outred
In walls and fowsies; these accomplished.
Thereafter worthie Wallace first expell'd them,
And for to leave these wals by force compell'd them.
Whom after foughten was that fatall field
Wofull Falkirk, envie did force to yeeld
Up his governement; to Perth then came,
And in the Nobles presence quatte the same.
Leanfac'd envie doth often bring a nation
To civill discord, shame, and desolation.
Such bitter fruit we found, all to confusion
At once did run, was nothing but effusion
Of guiltlesse bloud: Our enemies did take
Our strengths again, and all things went to wrake,
Such was our wofull state, unto the time
The brave King, Robert Bruce, came to this clime,
Most happily, yet small beginnings had:
For many yeers before this land he fred
From enemies rage, till wisely he at length
By soft recoiling recollected strength;
Then came to Perth, and did the same besiege
And take; who through persuit and cruell rage
Kil'd Scots, and English all were in it found,
Brake down the walls, them equal'd to the ground.
But after this victorious King did die,
And brave Earle Thomas Randolf, by and by
All things perplexed were, the Baliol proud
With English forces both by land and floud
In Scotland came, arrived at Kinghorne,
And through the countrie mightily did sorne.
Our Governours, the Earles of Merche and Marre
Sufficient armies levying for warre
This pride for to represse, did fixe their tents
At Dupline camped Marre: mine heart it rents
To tell the wofull event, in the night
This Earle and all his hoste surprisde by sleight,
Yee know the storie, all to death neer brought,
The Englishmen on Scots such butcheries wrought.
Thus Baliol proud to Perth did make his way,
The city all secure ere break of day
For to surprise, naked of walls and men,
As pray most easie did obtaine, and then
To fortifie the same, in haste, did call,
Go cast the fousie, and repair the wall.
The Earle of Merch, hearing the wofull chance,
Incontinent his armie did advance
To Perth, hoping the same he might regaine,
Did straitly it besiege, but all in vaine,
He forc'd was to reteir; Baliol to Scone
Then went, was crown'd, rather usurp'd the crown.
By these fair Fortuns having gain'd a faction,
Not for the countreyes peace, but for distraction
Did overswey the ballance, none with reason
Durst call the Baliols enterprise a treason,
Because it had good successe; so doth reele
Th'inconstant course of giddie Fortunes wheele.
Constant in changes of blindfolded chance.
Meane while King David Bruce did flee to France
As yet a child, his tender life to save
From tyrannizing Baliols bloodie glave.
Baliol install'd, in guarding leaves the town
To some true traitours, not true to the crown.
Hereafter Nobles and commons all combinde
Whose kin wer kild at Dupline, in one minde
Aveng'd to be, did come in awfull maner
Unto the citie, with displayed banner;
And strongly it beseige three months and more,
Till strong assault, and famine, urgeing sore,
Forc'd them to yeeld, the traitours openly kild
The wals were raz'd againe, and fousies fild.
Yet Baliol once more did obtaine the same,
And with new Fortunes much advance his name
But who doth not finde Fortunes fickle chance?
Whom erewhile she so highly did advance
To hold a scepter, and to weare a crown,
Now tyrannizing proudly pesters down:
King Edward came with fiftie thousand brave
To Perth, the Baliol, lead as captiv'd slave.
Trust not in Kings, nor Kingdomes, nor applause
Of men, the World's a sea that ebbes and flowes,
A wheele that turnes, a reele that alwayes rokes
A bait that overswallowed men choaks.
Seditions rise againe, this Edward Windsore
With greater forces came, and made a winde sore
To blow through Scotland, minding a new conquest,
Did all things overwhelme, even as a tempest
Castles ov'rcome, strongly beligger Perth
It take, rebuild her wals, all thrown to Earth,
Upon the charges of sex Abacies,
With bulwarks, rampiers, rounds, and bastilies
Of squared stone, with towres and battlements,
Houses for prospect, and such muniments,
For strong defence, clouses and water fals,
With passage fair to walk upon the wals,
And spacious bounds within sojours to dreele,
To merch, to string, to turne about, and wheele.
These were the Abacies, Couper, Landores,
Balmerinoch, Dumfermling, Saint Androes,
And Aberbrotok; who these works did frame,
For merite, and for honour of their name:
Such zeale had they, though blinde; ah now a-dayes
Much knowledge is profest, but zeale decayes.
Thus was the citie strongly fortified,
Till Robert the first Stuart first assayed
With foure great armies, yet by force repell'd
And after three months sage with grief compell'd
To sound retreat, Douglas meane while in Tay
Most happ'ly did arrive: then they assay
To reinforce the charge, and with munition
For batterie new prepard, and demolition,
Most furiously assault, a month and more,
Yet nothing could availe their endevoure,
Untill the Earle of Rosse with new supplie
Did fortifie the leaguer, and drew by
The water, which the wall did compasse round,
By secret conduits, and made dry the ground.
Then after sharp assault, and much bloud spended,
Bravely pursued, and no lesse well defended,
Finding themselves too weak who were within
More to resist, to parlie they begin,
And treat of peace; both parties jump in one,
With bag and baggage that they should be gone,
And so it was: The citie they surrender
No English since hath been thereof commander.
Read George Buchanane Boëce, Master Mair
These histories they word for word declare.
After this seige the wals some part thrown down
But were not wholly razde, to keep the town
In some good sort, readie for peace or war,
If not a bulwark, yet some kinde of bar.
Thus did they stand, untill these heighland men
Amidst their furie kil'd a Citizen;
A Citizen to kill, an odious thing
It then was thought; no sacrifice condigne
Could expiat the same, though now each knave
Dar to account a citizen a slave;
No such conceat in all the World againe,
As proudlie-poor such fondlings do maintaine.
This suddaine slaughter made a great commotion,
The Burgesses without further devotion
As men with war inur'd, to armes do flie,
Upon these Heigh-land men aveng'd to be,
Which they performe, chaffed in minde as beares,
And do persue them unto Hoghmansstaires;
In memorie of this fight it hath the name,
For many men lay there, some dead, some lame,
On which occasion they gan fortifie,
And build these walls againe, as now we see;
Though not so brav'ly as they were before,
For that did far surpasse their endevour,
Yet some resemblance they do keep and fashion
For they be builded neere the old foundation.
These are the wals, Monsier, as I have shown,
Which often have beene built, ofttimes down thrown
With stratagems of war, fame hath renownd them,
And if not Mars, yet martiall men did found them.
But now, good Monsier, needs none more at all
Them to destroy: they of themselves will fall.
So said good Gall, and humbly begged leave
For that offence so rashly he did give.
Oh! if he were on life to say much more,
For so he was disposde some times to roare.
The fifth Muse.
Yet bold attempt and dange∣rous, said I,
Upon these kinde of men such chance to try
By nature inhumaine, much given to blood,
Wilde, fierce, and cruell, in a disperat mood.
But no such danger, answer'd Master Gall,
As fearfullie you deeme, was there at all:
For Perth was then a citie made for war,
Her men were souldiers all, and bold to dar
Such motion attempt, a souldier keene
The smallest outrage hardly can susteene.
Many such stratagems declare I might,
Which Perth hath acted in defence of right:
How Ruthvens place, and Duplins, in one day
Were burn'd, or battell of the bridge of Tay,
With manly courage fought, where, kil'd were many,
Vpon the day sacred to Magdalené,
Five hundreth fourtie foure, for which she mournes,
And many times her cristall teares she turnes
In flouds of woes, remembring how these men
Were justly by their own ambition slaine,
Thinking to sack a town, some through despaire
Did overleap the bridge, and perish there:
Some borne on spears, by chance did swim a land.
And some lay swelting in the slykie sand,
Agruif lay some, others with eyes to skyes,
These yeelding dying sobs, these mournfull cryes.
Some by their fall were fixed on their spears,
Some swatring in the floud the streame down bears,
By chance some got a boat, What needs more words?
They make them oars of their two handed swords:
Some doubting what to do, to leap or stay,
Were trampled under foot as mirie clay;
Confusedly to fight and flee they thrimble,
The shifring spears thurst through their bodies tremble,
And strongly brangled in splents do quicklie flee,
The glistring sword is changed in crimson dye;
To wrak they go; even as the raging thunder,
Rumbling and rolling roundly, breaks asunder
A thick and dampish cloud, making a showre
Of crystall gems, on Earths dry bosome powre,
So broken was that cloud, the purpure bloud
In drops distilling, rather as a floud,
The dry and dustie ground doth warmely draine;
And dying bodies in their own blood staine,
Or as the comets, or such meteors driven
Or stars which do appear to fall from heaven:
So tumbling headlong spears in hand they traile;
As firie dragons, seeme to have a taile;
Or Phaëton, or some sulphureous ball,
So from the bridge in river do they fall.
I pray the Gall, quoth I, that storie show
Some things I heard of it, and more would know,
Tell it I pray. No, no, Gall did reply,
Lest I offend our neighbour town neerby,
When they shall hear how malice did provoke them,
Ambition them guide and avarice choak them;
Thinking upon our spoyles triumph to make,
And on th' occasion given our town to wrak,
With full commission purchast for the same,
T'intrude a Provest, else with sword and flame
All to destroy, given by the Cardinall,
At whose devotion then was govern'd all:
So in that morning soon by break of day
The town all silent did beset, then they
To clim the bridge begin and port to skall,
The chaines they break, and let the drawbridge fall;
The little gate of purpose was left patent
And all our Citizens in lanes were latent,
None durst be seene, the enemies to allure
Their own destruction justlie to procure;
Thus entring th•ough, well straitly, one did call,
All is our owne, Come fellow-souldiers all,
Advance your Lordlie pace; take and destroy,
Build up your Fortunes; O with what great joy
These words were heard! Then did they proudly step
As men advanc'd on stilts, and cock their cap.
With roulling eyes they looke, and hand in side
Throwing their noses, snuffe, and with great pride
Selflooking set their brawnes, themselves admire
And doubting at their own hearts closely speare
If it be they; thus wondering do they pause
A prettie while, anone they quickly loose
With swifter pace; and turning round, they move
If there be any gazer to approve
Their great conceat; thus, inly fil'd with glie,
They wish their wife or mistres might them see:
Scorning Alcides, they his strength would try,
And in their braine the World they do defie.
With such brave thoughts they throng in through the port
Thinking the play of Fortune bairnely sport,
And as proud peacocks with their plumes do prank
Alongst the bridge they merche in battell rank,
Till they came to the gate with yron hands,
Hard by where yet our Ladies chappell stands,
Thinking to break these bars it made some hover,
Too strong they were, therefore some did leap over,
Some crept below, thus many passe in by them,
And in their high conceat they do defie them.
Forwards within the town a space they go,
The passage then was strait, as well ye know,
Made by a wall, having gain'd so much ground
They can exult: Incontinent did sound
A trumpet from a watchtowre; then they start,
And all their bloud doth strike into their heart;
A wondrous change! even now the bravest fellows
In their own fansies glasse, who came to quaile us
The vitall sprits their artires do containe,
Their panting hearts now scarcely can sustaine.
Our souldiurrs then, who lying were a darning,
By sound of trumpet having got a warning
Do kyth, and give the charge; to tell the rest
Yee know it well, it needs not be exprest,
Many to ground were born, great bloud was shed,
He was the prettiest man that fastest fled.
Yea happie had they been, if place had served
To flee, then doubtlesse more had been preserved.
Within these bars were kill'd above threescore
Upon the bridge and waters many more.
But most of all did perish in the chace,
For they pursued were unto the place,
Where all their baggage and their canon lay,
Which to the town was brought as lawfull prey.
What shall I more say? if more you would have,
I'le speake of these three hundreth souldiours brave,
Like these renown'd Lacedemonians,
Couragious Thebans, valiant Thespians
Resolv'd to die, led by Leonidas,
Stop't Xerxes armie at Thermopylas.
Such were these men who for Religions sake,
A cord of hemp about their necks did take,
Solemnly sworn, to yeeld their lives thereby,
Or they the Gospels veritie deny:
Quiting their houses, goods, and pleasures all,
Resolv'd for any hazard might befall,
Did passe forth of the town in armes to fight,
And die, or they their libertie and light
Should lose, and whosoever should presume
To turn away that cord should be his doome.
Hence of Saint Iohnstoun riband came the word
In such a frequent use, when with a cord
They threaten rogues; though now all in contempt
It speak, yet brave and resolute attempt,
And full of courage, worthie imitation,
Deserving of all ages commendation
Made these men put it on, symbole to be,
They readie were for Christ to do or die.
For they were Martyrs all in their affection
And like to Davids Worthies in their action;
Therefore this cord should have beene made a badge
And signe of honour to the after age.
Even as we see things in themselves despised,
By such rare accidents are highlie prised,
And in brave skutsheons honourablie born,
With mottoes rare these symbols to adorn.
Thus some have vermine, and such loathsome swarmes,
Yet honourably borne are in their armes,
And some have myce, some frogs, some filthie rats,
And some have wolfs, and foxes; some have cats;
Yet honourable respect in all his had,
Though in themselves they loathsome be and bad,
Thus Millaine glories in the bainfull viper,
As none more honour misterie none deeper;
The auncient Gaules in toads, in lillies now
Metamorphosde: The Phrygians in their sow.
Athens their owle with th'Eagle will not barter,
And Honi soit who thinks ill of the garter.
What shall be said then of this rope or cord?
Although of all men it be now abhord,
And spoke of in disdaine, their ignorance
Hath made them so to speak, yet may it chance
When they shall know the truth, they will speak better,
And think of it as of a greater matter,
And truely it esteeme an hundreth fold
Of much more honour than a chaine of gold.
Thus may you see Monsier, men of renown
Of old time have possest this ancient town.
And yet this may we boast, even to this day
Men of good wit and worth do not decay;
For to this houre some footsteps still remaines
Of such couragious hearts and cunning braines.
Good Master Gall, quoth I, I know that well
Whereof you speak, and clearly can it tell,
For I did say these Men, being then of age
Some twelue or threttene years, a prettie page,
As easely you may guesse, and can you show
Some partiall poynts whereof you nothing know.
Nor are they written. Then answered Master Gall,
A witnesse such as you is above all
Exception, therefore show what you did see,
Or heare, good Monsier, Your antiquitie
Is of great credit: Master Gall, quoth I,
Much did I see, and much more did I try:
My Father was a man active, and wight
In those dayes, and who helped for to fight
The battell of the bridge: within few yeeres
Thereafter was I borne, then all our quires
And convents richly stood, which I did see
With all their pomp; but these things told to me
First will I shew; a storie of much ruth
How that our Martyrs suffered for the truth
Of Christs blest Gospell, on Pauls holy day
Before the fight was of the bridge of Tay
In that same yeere; the sillie Governour
Led by the craftie Cardinall, with power
Held judgement on these men, and under trust
Condemned them; nothing their bloudie lust
Could satiat: The Citizens made sure
Their neighbours should nor losse nor skaith indure,
Go to their homes, forthwith the Cardinall
Causde lead them unto execution all.
And from the Spey towre window did behold
Doome execut, even as his Cleargie would:
Which treacherous fact did so enrage the town,
No credit more to black, white, nor gray gown
After these dayes was given: Thus in the place
Where malefactors end their wicked race,
These innocents do make a blessed end,
And unto God their sprits they recommend,
In witnesse of the faith, for which they die,
And by the Sprit of truth did prophesie
These words, looking and pointing with the hand
Towards our Monasteries, which then did stand
Most sumptuously adorn'd with steples, bels,
Church ornaments, and what belongeth else,
"These foxes which do lurke within these holes,
"Delighting in the earth like blinded moles,
"Drown'd in their lusts, and swimming in their pleasures
"Whose God their belly, whose chief joy their treasures;
"Who caused have our death, shall hunded be
"Forth of these dens, some present heere shall see
"The same ere it be long, then shall yee say,
"Its for Gods truth that we have dyed this day.
"And all these sumptuous buildings shall be cast
"Down to the earth, made desolat, and wast:
"This to performe Gods zeale shall eat men up,
"To fill the double potion in their cup:
"The apples then of pleasure, which they loved
"And lusted after, shall be all removed.
"Yea scarcely shall they finde a hole to hide
"Their heads (thus by the Sprite they testified.)
"And in that day true Pastours shall the Lord
"Raise up to feed his flock, with his pure word,
"And make Christs people by peculiar choice
"Dignosce the sheepheards from the hyrelings voice.
Which as they did foretell did come to passe
Some sixteene yeeres or thereby, more or lesse,
Thus with cleare signes, by Gods own Sprit exprest,
In full assurance of heavens blesse they rest.
Meane while Saint Catharins Chaplan standing by,
Wringing his eyes and hands, did often cry,
Alace, alace, for this unhappie turn,
I feare for it one day we shall all mourn,
And that by all it shall be plainlie said,
That we blind guides the blinded long have led;
Some Churchmen there, bad pack him heretick,
Else certainelie they should cause burne him quicke,
This done, friends take their bodies and with mourning
Do carie them towards the town, returning
With heavie hearts, them to this chappell bring,
But no Soule Masse nor Dirigé durst sing.
Yet this good Priest did lay them on the altar,
And all night read the pistle, and the psalter,
With heart devote, and sad; from th'evening vapers,
Placing upon the altar burning tapers
Unto the dawning: exequies thus ended.
Their bodies to the Earth are recommended.
This Chapell some time stood by our theater,
Where I my self sprinkled with holie water,
After these dayes did often heare the Messe
Albeit I knew not what it did expresse,
But this I saw, a man with a shaven crown,
Raz'd beard, and lips, who look't like a baboun,
Perfum'd with odours, and in Priestlie vestures,
Did act this mimik toy with thousand gestures;
A misterie indeed, nor which no fable
Acted on stage to make you laugh more able.
After these innocents were martyred thus
As you have heard, Churchmen were odious,
And, when occasion serv'd, so did they finde,
For, so soone as did blow a contrare winde,
The houre was come, and then our Knox did sound,
Pull down their idols, throw them to the ground.
The multitude, even as a spear, did rush then
In poulder beat; and cald them all Nehushtan.
Our blak Friers Church and place, white friers, and gray
Prophan'd, and cast to ground were in one day.
The Charterhouse like a Citadale did hold
Some two dayes more, untill these newes were told
We should be raz'd and sackt, and brought to ground,
Not so much as a footstep should be found
Where was such citie; neither sexe, nor age
Should saved be, untill the cruell rage
Of fire and sword should satiat that moud,
Quenching the fire with Citizens owne bloud
And with destructions besome sweep from station,
And saw with sault; perpetuall desolation
To signifie: These newes made great commotion,
The fearfull people ran to their devotion:
Doctrine and prayers done, chief men advise,
To take in hand first what great enterprise.
Said one, This place hard by our town doth stand
A mightie strength, which easely may command,
And wrake our citie, therefore let us go
In time, and to the ground it overthrow,
For sure our Enemies will possesse the same,
And us from thence destroy with sword and flame,
Even at their pleasure. Then they all conclude
In armes to rise; and rushing as a floud
Which overflowes the banks, and headlongs hurles
The strongest bulwarks with devouring whirles,
Swallowing the mightie ships them overwhelme,
Nothing availes his skill that guides the helme;
Even so the multitude in armes arise
With noise confusde of mirth and mourning cryes
For that fair Palace, then sexscore nine yeeres
Which had continued; turning of the spheres
The fatall period brought, to ground it must,
And all its pomp and riches turne to dust.
Even as these Martyrs truelie did foretell
In everie point the judgement so befell.
Towres fall to ground, Monks flee to hide their heads,
Nothing availe their rosaries and beads;
Then all men cry'd, Raze raze, the time is come,
Avenge the guiltlesse bloud, and give the doome.
Courage to give was mightilie then blown
Saint Iohnstons huntsup, since most famous known
By all Musitians, when they sweetlie sing
With heavenly voice, and well concording string.
O how they bend their backs and fingers tirle!
Moving their quivering heads their brains do whirle
With diverse moods; and as with uncouth rapture
Transported, so doth shake their bodies structure:
Their eyes do reele, heads, armes, and shoulders move:
Feet, legs, and hands and all their parts approve
That heavenlie harmonie: while as they threw
Their browes, O mightie straine! that's brave! they shew
Great phantasie; quivering a brief some while,
With full consent they close, then give a smile,
With bowing bodie, and with bending knee,
Me think I heare God save the Companie.
But harmonie which heavens and earth doth please
Could not our Enemies furious rage appease;
Cruell Erinnis reignes destruction shoring,
Ten thousand souldiours like wilde Lyons roaring
Against our town do merch, fame desolation
Proclaimes; the church then nam'd the Congregation
Makes for defence: But ah the Burghs distractions!
Papists and Protestants make diverse factions;
The town to hold impossible they finde,
The fields to take they purpose in their minde,
Factions within, munition, victuall scarce,
Hardly to hold eight dayes they finde by search.
Amids these doubts these valiant fellowes come
In armes aray'd, and beatting of the drum,
With coards about their necks, Come, come, they cry,
We be the men who are resolv'd to die.
First in this quarrell; we to death will fight,
So long as courage will afford us might,
And who so yeeldes alive, this tow portends
Streight must he hing where did our dearest friends
Who suffered for the truth, nothing we skunner,
This certainlie we count our chiefest honour.
Thus as Manasses half tribe, Ruben, Gad
Do leave their cattell, and mount Gilead,
Before their brethren over Iordan go,
In armes to fight against their cursed fo;
So these three hundred do abandon quite
Their citie, houses, goods, and chief delite,
Resolv'd to die all for the Gospels light,
Armed before their brethren merch to fight;
And having gain'd a place meet to abide,
Their enemies to resist, courage they cride,
Be merrie fellowes all, leave sad complaints,
Dine cheerefullie, for sup we shall with Saints.
Fame spreads the brave attempt, all martiall hearts
Inflam'd with divine zeale flock to these parts
From places most remote, in armes they rise
T'assist the matchlesse happie enterprise.
God giveth hearts to Men, and mightiest things
By weakest meanes he to confusion brings:
Our enemies ears are fild that all our feare
Was into courage turned from despare;
Their fierie rage is quencht, their hearts do faile,
Where God forsakes nought doth mans strength availe.
Then what their open force could not work out,
By sleight they endevour to bring about,
They treat of peace: peace flees with joyfull wings,
But under it was hatcht most lewd designes
When time should serve: But he whose thought doth rule
This Worlds great frame their madnesse did controule;
And gratiouslie through his aboundant pitie
Preserv'd our Innocents, and sav'd our citie. (ded
When by small means they found themselves confoun-
Even to their verie heart roots were they wounded:
Then they began to raile, and shew their passion,
Saying, Such riband's meet for such profession.
And in contempt, when any rogue thy see,
They say, Saint Iohnstouns Ribands meet for thee.
Or any fellow resolute in minde
For some great act, this riband fit they finde
For such a one, Thus time made all men use
This word, and ignorance through time t'abuse,
For everie bad conceat, which for Religion
Was stoutlie undertaken in thsi region:
Which I did see, and heare, and well do know,
And for your life the paralel me show
In all the World; except Leonidas
The rest, without a third I overpasse.
Thus our Saint Iohnstons riband took the name
Whereof we have no reason to think shame.
Our Shipper heerwith cald, HOW, turn aback,
The waters flow, and tide doth quickly make,
Therefore of this to speak more was no leasure,
For winde and tide (you know) stay no mans pleasure.
With post haste to our bearge we make our way,
The day far spent, longer we might not stay;
Our ship now fairlie fleeting comes a land,
Two skilfull rowers take the oares in hand
We reembarked, down the river slide,
Which was most pleasant with the flowing tide,
The bridge drawes nigh where contrare streams do run,
Take heed shipper, said we, these dangers shun,
The whirling streame will make our boat to cowp,
Therefore let's passe the bridge by Wallace loup.
Which when we did behold, 'mongst other things
We much admir'd who lent his feet such wings:
Empedocles may leap in Aetna burning,
In Tiber leap may Cocles home returning,
The one burnes in flame, th'other falls in flood
But Wallace overleaping makes all good.
When we these Heaven-like arches had survey'd
We admird in th'air these hinging stones what stay'd.
Then thus said Gall; these on their centers stay,
As on their bases fixt, and all their sway
They presse toward the same, a wondrous thing,
Albeit the Center in the air doth hing,
Yea diverse circles sections diverse wayes
Tend to their proper centers, as their stayes;
So these two sections do conjoine in one,
To make the arch, and finisht in a cone,
As everie peace these bowing arches bends,
It rightlie pointing to the center tends.
So heavens respect the earth, and all their powers
Together in her bosome strongly powres,
Which is their center, roote, and sure pedestall
The stedfast base whereon this World doth rest all.
Thus mans ingine Gods works doth imitate
And skilfull Art doth nature emulat.
As Archimedes in a sphere of glasse
The worlds great fabrick lively did expresse,
With all the stars fixt in the azure heaven,
And all the motions of the wandring seven,
Moving about a fixed point or center,
Observing houres, dayes, months, summer, and winter.
Even so the arches of this bridge proclaime,
And shew the building of the starrie frame:
But now all lost, needs Archimedes skill,
Oh if it were supplied by Master Mylne!
Thus having past the bridge, our oares we bend
To shore, so this day voyage made an end.
The sixth Muse.
As we arrived at our Ladies steps,
Incontinent all men reverst their capes,
Bidding us welcome home, and joining hand,
They ask from whence we came, and from what land?
Said we, Some curious catching everie winde
Do run through sea and land to either Inde,
And compassing the glob, in circuit role,
Some new found lands to search beneath each pole,
Or Memphis, wonders, or the Pharian tower,
Or walls which shew the Babylonian power;
Or hung in th'air the Mausolean frame,
Or statelie' temple of the Trivian dame,
The Rhodian Colossus, and the grove,
Where stood the statue of Olympian Iove,
With endlesse toile and labour passe to see,
Or if in all this world more wonders be,
They search the same, and so they stoutlie boast,
Yet both themselves and paines are oft times lost:
For going men, if they return perhaps,
Strange change, in swine transformed are their shaps:
Albeit some, though rare, who go from hence,
Returne, like him of Ithaca was Prince:
But we, more safely passing all alongs,
Are not bewitched with such Syren songs.
In little much, well traveld in short ground
Do search what wonders in the world are found;
Treading these mountains, and these pleasant valleyes,
Elisian fields had never braver allies
Then we imagine, and for wonders rare
More than the Carian tombe which hings in air
Do we conceave. Of travels let them talk,
We in the works of learned men do walk
And painfully their learned paths do tread,
For sure he's traveld far who is well read
Yea who so views my Cabinets rich store,
Is traveld through the world, and some part more.
Let this suffice we travell to content us,
And of our travels think nev'r to repent us,
Yea in our Muses, we do travell more
Than they that coast and sound the Indian shore.
Yet think not so brave travels we condemne,
If with safe conscience we may use the same;
Nor do we speak voide of experience,
For both of us have traveld been in France,
And France for all, and if that will not ease you
We think then all this world will never please you.
Then went we home to get some recreation,
But by and by befell a new tentation:
Our neighbour archers our good sport envying,
A challenge to us sent, our patience trying,
And did provoke us, if we shut for gold,
Or honours praise, betimes, to morrow would:
Or for our mistres if we had a minde,
Doubtlesse, said Gall, thereto we are inclinde:
But for the present we have taken in hand
To view our fields by river and by land;
Boast not therefore, for nothing will disheart us,
Nor from our present progresse will divert us.
But of our journey having made an end,
Our lives in such brave quarrell will we spend.
This answere when they heard, they did compeer
With ardent hearts some further newes to speer,
And what brave sport we found, what pastime rare?
Forthwith in loftie verse Gall to declare
Began, his breast when Phoebus once did warme,
Their ears and hearts, his heavenly voice did charme,
And I to keep a consort with full voice,
As fell by turn, did make them all rejoice
With sweetest rimes; for both of us inclinde,
Even as Democritus did truely minde
Of Poets all, when once that sacred fire
With divine furie did our breasts inspire.
And thus with heavenlie rapture, as transported
That whole dayes journey Gall to them reported,
Till Hesperus appeard, and in despight
Of heavens which hearkned, forc'd to bid good night.
Which when I call to minde, it makes me cry
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed the to die?
The night was short, Phoebus did touch the line
Where cruked Cancer makes him to decline,
No sleep could close mine eyes, but wake must I,
Till fair Aurora did inlight the sky.
Then up I got, and where good Gall did ly,
With mightie voice and chanting did I cry,
Good Master Gall, arise, you sleep too long
With Hey the day now dawnes, so was my song,
The day now dawnes, Arise good Master Gall,
Who answering said, Monsier, I heare you call:
And up he got. Then to our bearge we go,
To answer us our boatman wondrous slow,
When we did call, thrise lifting up his head,
Thrise to the ground did fall againe as dead.
But him to raise, I sung Hay the day dawnes;
The drowsie Fellow wakning, gaunts, and yawnes;
But getting up at last, and with a blow
Raising his fellow, bad him quickly row.
Then merrielie we leanche into the deep,
Phoebus meane while awakned rose from sleep,
At his appointed houre, the pleasant morning.
With guilded beames the cristall streames adorning:
The pearled dew on tender grasse did hing,
And heavenly quires of birds did sweetlie sing:
Down by the sweet south inche we sliding go,
Ten thousand dangling diamonds did show
The radiant repercussion of Sols rayes
And spreading flowres did looke like Argoes eyes.
Then did we talk of citie toiles and cares,
Thrice happie counting him shuns these affaires,
And with us have delight these fields to haunt
Some pastorall or sonnet sweet to chant.
And view from far th'ambitions of this age,
Turning the helmes of states, and in their rage
Make shipwrake of the same on shelfs and sands,
Running be lawles lawes and hard commands,
And often drown themselves in flouds of woes,
As many shipwraks of this kinde well showes.
We passe our time upon the forked mountain,
And drink the cristall waters of the fountain.
Dig'd by the winged horse; we sing the trees
The cornes, and flocks, and labours of the bees;
Of sheepheard lads, and lasses homelie love,
And some time straine our oaten pipe above
That mean: we sing of Hero and Leander
Yea Mars, all cled in steel; and Alexander.
But Cynthius us pulling by the ear
Did warning give, to keep a lower air,
But keep what air we will, who can well say
That he himself preserve from shipwrake may?
In stormie seas, while as the ship doth reele
Of publick state, the meanest boy may feele
Shipwrack, as well as he the helme who guides,
When seas do rage with winds and contrare tides.
Which: ah too true I found, upon an ore
Not long ago, while as I swim'd to shore,
Witnesse my drenshed cloaths, as you did see,
Which I to Neptune gave in votarie
And signe of safetie. Answered Master Gall,
Monsier, your table hung on Neptunes wall
Did all your losse so livelie point to me,
That I did mourne, poore soul, when I did see.
But you may know in stormes, thus goeth the mater,
No fish doth sip in troubled seas clean water.
Courage therefore, that cloud is overgone,
Therefore as we were wont, let us sing on.
For in this morning sounded in mine ear
The sweetest musick ever I did hear
In all my life, good Master Gall, quod I
You to awake, I sung so merrielie.
Monsier, quoth he, I pray thee ease my spleane,
And let me heare that Musick once againe.
With Hay the day now dawnes, then up I got,
And did advance my voice to Elaes note,
I did so sweetlie flat and sharply sing,
While I made all the rocks with Echoes ring.
Meane while our boat, by Freertown hole doth slide,
Our course not stopped with the flowing tide,
We ned nor card, nor crostaffe for our Pole,
But from thence landing clam the Dragon hole,
With crampets on our feet, and clubs in hand,
Where its recorded Iamie Keddie fand
A stone inchanted, like to Gyges ring,
Which made him disappear, a wondrous thing,
If it had been his hap to have retaind it,
But loosing it, againe could never finde it:
Within this cove ofttimes did we repose
As being sundred from the citie woes.
From thence we, passing by the Windie gowle,
Did make the hollow rocks with echoes yowle;
And all alongst the mountains of Kinnoule,
Where did we shut at many foxe and fowle.
Kinnoule, so famous in the dayes of old!
Where stood a castle and a stately hold
Of great antiquity, by brink of Tay
Woods were above, beneath fair medowes lay
In prospect proper Perth, with all her graces,
Fair plantings, spatious greens, religious places,
Though now defac'd through age, and rage of men,
Within this place a Ladie did remaine
Of great experience, who likewise knew
By sprite of prophecie, what should ensue,
Who saw wight Wallace, and brave Bruce on live,
And both their manhoods lively did descrive
Unto that noble Prince, first of that name,
Worthie King Iames, who hearing of her fame,
Went to her house, these histories to learne,
When as for age her eyes could scarce discerne.
This Ladie did foretell of many things
Of Britaines unioun under Scotish Kings,
And after ending of our civill feeds,
Our speares in syths; our swords should turn in speads,
In signe whereof there should arise a Knight
Sprung of the bloodie yoak, who should of right
Possesse these lands, which she then held in fea,
Who for his worth and matchlesse loyaltie
Unto his Prince, should greatly be renownd
And of these lands instyl'd, and Earle be crownd;
Whose son in spight of Tay, should joine these lands
Firmely by stone on either side which stands,
Thence to the top of Law Tay did we hye,
From whence the countrie round about we spy,
And from the airie Mountaine looking down,
Beheld the stance and figure of our town,
Quadrat with longer sides, from east to wast,
Whose streets, wals, fowsies in our eyes did cast
A prettie shew: Then gan I to declare
Where our old Monastries, with Churches fair
Sometime did stand, placed at everie corner
Was one, which with great beautie did adorne her,
The Charterhouse toward the southwest stood,
And at South-east the Friers, who weare gray hood.
Toward the North the BlackFriers Church did stand;
And Carmelits upon the Westerne hand;
With many chappels standing heere and there
And steeples fairly mounted in the air,
Our Ladies Church, Saint Catharins, and Saint Paules,
Where many a messe was sung for defunct souls.
The chappell of the rood, and sweet Saint Anne,
And Lorets chappell, from Romes Vaticane
Transported hither, for a time took sasing,
(You know the Cloister monkes write nev'r a leasing.)
For what offence I know not, or disdaine,
But that same chappell borne hence is againe,
For it appeares no more, look who so list,
Or else I'm sure its covered with a mist
Saint Leonards cloister, mourning Magdolené,
Whose cristall Fountaine flowes like Hippocrené.
Saint Iohnes fair church, as yet in mids did stand:
A braver sight was not in all this land
Than was that town, when thus it stood decord
As not a few, yet living, can record.
And to be short, for this we may not tarie on,
Of that old town this nought is but the carion.
Monsier, said Gall, that for a truth I know
These Kirks and Cloisters made a goodly show;
But this as truely I dar well alleadge,
These Kirkmen usde the greatest cousenage
That ev'r was seene or heard. Good Gall, quoth I,
How can that be? Monsier, if you will try,
Too much true shall you finde. Pray thee, good Gall,
Your speach to me seemes paradoxicall;
Therefore I would it know: Monsier, quoth he,
And shall I show what such Idolatrie
Hath brought upon that town? The many closters
Where fed there was so many idle fosters,
Monks, Priests, and Friers, and multitude of Patrons,
Erected in their queires; th' old wifes and matrons
Gave great head to these things, which they did say,
And made their horned husbands to obey;
And mortifie so much unto this Saint,
And unto that, though they themselves should want▪
Yea twentie Saincts about one tenement,
Each one of them to have an yeerlie rent,
And all to pray for one poore wretched soul,
Which Purgatorie fire so fierce should thole.
So these annuities, yeerelie taxations,
Are causes of these wofull desolations
Which we behold. The ground of all these evils,
What to these Saincts they gave, was given to Divels.
God made them Saincts, men set them in Gods stead,
Gave them Gods honour; so them idols made:
Thus Satan served is; what men allow
On idols in his Name; to him they do:
And now these Friers destroyers may be seene,
And wracks of that cities the cause have been:
For none dare buy the smallest peace of ground,
So many annuel rents thereon are found,
And if he build thereon, doubtlesse he shall
Spend in long suits of Law his moyen all.
If some good salve cure not this sore, I fear
It shall be said, some time a town was there.
Good Gall, said I, some melancholious fit
Molests your Joviall sprite, and pregnat wit,
I would some Venus-heir might cure your sadnesse;
Repell your sorrowes, and repleage your gladnesse:
Therefore I'le quickelie go a herbarising
To cure that melancholik mood by snising.
Herewith we turne our pace, and down againe
Passe by the Windie gowle, unto the plaine;
And herbarising there a prettie while,
Galls lustie face blithly began to smile:
Guesse then how blith was I, if I had found
(I would not been so blith) a thousand pound.
Thus recreat, to boat againe we go,
And down the river smothly do we row,
Neerby Kinfaunes, which famous Longoveil
Sometime did hold; whose auncient sword of steele
Remaines unto this day, and of that land
Is chiefest evident; on th'other hand
Elcho and Elcho park, where Wallace haunted,
A sure refuge, when Englishmen he daunted;
And Elcho. nunrie, where the holy sisters
Suppli'd were by the Fratres in their misters.
By Sleeplesse Isle we row, which our good Kings
Gave to our town with many better things.
Before there was in that neere neighbouring station,
Or Frier or Nun to set there their foundation.
On th'other side we lookt unto Balthyok
Where many peacock cals upon his mayok.
Megeance fair place, and Errols pleasant seat,
With many more, which long were to relate.
Right over against is that wood Earnside,
And fort where Wallace ofttimes did reside:
While we beheld all these, the tide did flow,
A lie the rudder goes; about we row,
Up to the town again we make our course,
Sweetly convoy'd with Tayes reflowing source.
There we beheld where Wallace ship was drownd,
Which he brought out of France, whose bottome found
Was not long since, by Master Dickesons art,
That rare ingeniour, skild in everie part
Of Mathemathick; Quoth I, Master Gall,
I marvell our records nothing at all
Do mention Wallace going into France,
How that can be forgote I greatlie scance,
For well I know all Gasconie and Guien
Do hold that Wallace was a mightie Gian,
Even to this day; in Rochel likewise found
A Towre from Wallace name greatly renownd.
Yea Longoveils antiquities, which there
We do behold, this truely do declare
That Wallace was in France; for after that
The publick place of government he quat,
Were full four yeeres and more, before he shed
His dearest bloud, ah dearest truelie said:
And think you then that such a martiall heart
Yeelding his place, would sojourne in this part,
And lazely ly loytring in some hole?
That any so should think I hardlie thole;
Therefore I grieve our men should have forgotten
Themselves, and left so brave a point unwritten;
Or should it contradict, there being so many
Good reasons for this truth, as is for any.
Monsier, said he, that's not a thing to grieve at,
For they did write his publick life, not privat:
For sure it is, after his publick charge
Grief made him go to France, his spirit t'enlarge,
His noble Sprite, that thraldome suffered never,
For he to libertie aspired ever;
And turning home, his ship causde sunken be,
To stop the rivers passage, that from sea
No English ship should come Perth to releave,
For any chance of war Fortune could give.
But now this ship, which so long time before
In waters lay, is fairlie haild a shoare;
What cannot skill by Mathematick move?
As would appeare things Natures reach above.
Up by the Willow gate we make our way;
With flowing waters pleasant then was Tay.
The town appeares; the great and strong Spey towre,
And Monks towre, builded round; a wall of power
Extending twixt the two, thence goeth a snout
Of great squair stones, which turnes the streames about;
Two ports with double wals; on either hand
Are fowsies deep, where gorged waters stand,
And flow even as you list: but over all
The Palace kythes, may nam'd be Perths Whithall.
With orchards, like these of Hesperides
But who shall shew the Ephemerides
Of these things, which sometimes adornd that Citie?
That they should all be lost, it were great pitie.
Whose antique monuments are a great deale more
Than any inward riches, pomp or store;
And priviledges would you truely know?
Far more indeed, than I can truelie show;
Such were our Kings good wills, for to declare
What pleasure and contentment they had there:
But of all priviledges this is the bravest,
King Iames the Sixth was Burges made and Provest;
And gave his Burges oath, and did inrole
With his own hand within the Burges scrole
And Gildrie Book his deare and worthie Name,
Which doth remaine to Perths perpetuall fame,
And that Kings glorie, thus was his gratious pleasure
Of his most loving heart to shew the treasure;
Writing beneath his Name these words most nervous,
Parcere subjectis, & debellare superbos.
That is, It is the Lyons great renown
To spare the humble, and proudlings pester down.
Which extant with his own hand you may see:
And, as inspir'd, thus did he prophesie,
What will you say, if this shall come to hand,
Perths Provest Londons Major shall command.
Which words, when we did hear, we much admir'd,
And everie one of us often inquir'd
What these could meane? Some said, he meand such one,
That London, yea all England like had none,
Some said, he mindes his dignitie and place;
Others his gifts of Nature, and of Grace.
All which were true indeed, yet none could say,
He mean'd that Englands scepter he should swey,
Till that it came to passe some few yeeres after,
Then hearts with joy, and mouths were fild with laughter:
Happie King Iames the sixth, so may I say,
For I a man most Joviall was that day,
And had good reason, when I kist that hand,
Which afterwards all Britaine did command.
Monsier, said Gall, I sweare you had good reason
Most glad to be that day: for you of treason
Assoylied was, of your unhappie chief:
Pray thee good Gall, quod I, move not my grief.
Said Gall, Monsier, That point I will not touch,
They'l tine their coales that burnes you for a witch.
A witch, good Gall, quod I, I will be sworne,
Witchcraft's the thing that I could never learne;
Yea Master Gall, I swear that I had rather
Ten thousand Chiefs been kill'd, or had my Father,
The King is Pater patriae, a chief
Oft times is borne for all his kinnes mischief.
And more, I know was never heart, nor hand
Did prosper, which that King did ev'r withstand.
Therefore good Gall, I pray thee let that passe,
That happie King knew well what man I was.
While we thus talk, our boat drawes nie the shoare,
Our fellowes all for joy begin to roare
When they us see. and lowdly thus gan call,
Welcome, good Monsier, welcome Master Gall;
Come, come a land, and let us merrie be,
For as your boat most happilie we did see,
Incontinent we bargaind to and fro,
Some said, It was your Berge, and some said, No:
But we have gaind the prise, and pleadges all,
Therefore come Monsier, come good Master Gall;
And let us merrie be, while these may last;
Till all be spent we think to take no rest.
And so it was, no sleep came in our head,
Till fair Aurora left Tithonus bed.
Above all things so was good Gals desire,
Who of good companie could never tire,
Which when I call to minde, it makes me cry,
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?
The seventh Muse.
Up springs the Sun, the day is cleer, and fair,
Etesiae, sweetlie breathing, cools the air;
Then coming to my Cabin in a band,
Each man of us a Gabion hints in hand.
Where me their Sergeant Major they elected,
At my command that day to be directed.
What prettie captaine's yone (so said some wenches)
Ladies, quoth I, Men are not met by inches.
The Macedonian Monarch was call'd great,
Not from his Bodies quantitie, but state
And Martiall prowesse, good Ladies then to heart you,
You shall well know that talenesse is no vertue.
Thus merche we all alongs unto Moncreiff
Where dwells that worthie Knight, the famous chief
Of all that auncient name: And passing by
Three trees sprung of one root we did espy:
Which when we did behold, said Master Gall.
Monsier, behold these trees, so great and tall
Sprung of one root, which all Men Brethren name,
The symbole which true concord doth proclame.
O happie presage, where such trees do grow,
These Brethren three the threefold Gerion show,
Invincible, remaining in one minde,
Three hearts as in one Body fast combinde,
Scilurus bundell knit, doth whole abide,
But easily is broke, when once unty'd.
So these three trees do symbolize most cleerly;
The amitie of hearts and mindes, inteirly
Kythes in that happie race, and doth presage
To it more happinesse in after age;
Loves sweetest knot, which three in one doth bring
That budding gemme shall make more flourishing
Fair Brethren Trees, and sith so is your Name,
Be still the badge of concord, and proclaime
All health and wealth, unto that happie race,
Where grace and vertue mutually embrace.
To Moncrief easterne, then to Wallace-town
To Fingask of Dundas, thence passing down
Unto the Rynd, as Martiall Men, we faire.
What life Mans heart could wish more void of care?
Passing the river Earne, on th'other side,
Dreilling our Sojours, Vulgars were affraide.
Thence to the Pights great Metropolitan,
Where stands a steeple, the like in all Britaine
Not to be found againe, a work of wonder,
So tall and round in frame, a just cylinder
Built by the Pights in honour of their King,
That of the Scots none should attempt such thing,
As over his bellie big to walk or ride,
But this strong hold should make him to abide.
Unlesse on Pegasus that he would flee,
Or on Ioves bird should soare into the skye,
As rode Bellerophon and Ganymede:
But mounted so must ride no giddie head.
From thence we merch't directlie unto Dron,
And from that stead past to the Rocking stone;
Accompanied with Infantrie a band,
Each of us had a hunting staffe in hand,
With whistles shrile, the fleeing fowles to charme,
And fowlers nets upon our other arme:
But as for me about my neck was borne,
To sound the chace a mightie hunting horne;
And as I blew with all my might and maine,
The hollow rocks did answere make againe,
Then everie man in this cleare companie
Who best should winde the horne began to try;
Among the rest a fellow in the rout
Boldly began to boast, and brave it out,
That he would wind the horne in such a wise,
That easelie he would obtaine the prise,
But to record what chance there followed after
Gladly I would, but grief forbiddeth laughter,
For so it was the merrie man was mard,
Both tongue and teeth, I wot, were tightly tard;
Then no more stay; Fellow, good night, quod we,
Th'old proverb sayes, that Dirt partes Companie.
By this we were just at the Rocking stone,
Amongst the worlds great wonders, it is one
Most rare: It is a Phaenix in its kinde,
The like in all the world yee shall not finde:
A stone so neicely set upon its kernels,
Not artificiall, but naturall chernels,
So huge, so grave, that if you please to prove it,
A hundred yoak of oxen will not move it,
Yet touch it with your fingers smallest knocking,
Incontinent it will fall to a rocking,
And shake, and shiver; as if obedient,
More by request, than by commandement.
Then up I clame this rock, as I was wonted,
And like Aegeon on Whales back I mounted,
And with Etites ra•ling stone I knocked,
And as it ratled, even so was I rocked.
So fair a cradle, and rare was never seene
Oh if my Cabinet could it conteine!
Next at the bridge of Earne we made our Station,
And there we took some little recreation;
Where in Heroicks Gall fell to declaring
All circumstances of that dayes wayfairing,
And there so merrielie we sung, and chanted,
Happie were they our companie who haunted,
Which when I call to minde it makes me cry,
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die.
The eight Muse.
WHat blooming banks sweet Earne, or fairest Tay,
Or Amond doth embrace; these many a day
We haunted; where our pleasant pastorals
We sweetly sung, and merrie madrigals:
Sometimes bold Mars, and sometimes Venus fair,
And sometimes Phoebus love we did declare;
Sometimes on pleasant plaines, sometimes on mountains,
And sometimes sweetlie sung beside the fountains.
But in these banks where flowes Saint Conils Well,
The which Thessalian tempe doth excell.
Whose name and matchlesse fame for to declare,
In this most dolefull dittey, must I spare:
Yet thus dar say, that in the World again
No place more meet for Muses to remain;
For shadowing walks, where silver brooks do spring,
And smelling arbors, where birds sweetly sing,
In heavenly Musick warbling like Arion,
Like Thracian Orpheus, Linus, or Amphion,
That Helicon, Parnassus, Pindus fair
To these most pleasant banks scarce can compare.
These be the banks where all the Muses dwell,
And haunt about that cristall brook and well,
Into these banks chiefly did we repair
Erom Shunshine shadowed, and from blasting air.
There with the Muses we did sing our songs,
Sometimes for pleasure, sometimes for our wrongs;
For in those dayes, none durst approach their table,
But we, to taste their dainties, this no fable.
From thence to Methven wood we took our way,
Soone be Aurora fair did kyth the day;
And having rested there some little space,
Againe we did betake us to our chace,
Raising the Does and Roes forth of their dennes,
And watrie fowles out of the marrish fennes,
That if Diana had been in that place,
Would thought, in hunting we had stain'd her grace.
To Methven Castle, where Gall did declare
How Margaret Teuther, Queen, sometimes dwelt there;
First daughter to King Henrie seventh, who closes
York-Lancaster in one, Englands two roses.
A happie union after long debate,
But union much more happie, and more great
Even by that same Queen springs, and by her race
Whereby all Britaine joyes long wished peace.
Hence came King Iames his title to the Crowne
Of England, by both parents of renowne.
Hence comes our happie peace, so be it ay,
That peace with truth in Britaine flourish may.
Right over to Forteviot, did we hy,
And there the ruin'd castle did we spy
Of Malcolme Ken-more, whom Mackduff then Than•
Of Fife, (so cald) from England brought againe,
And fiercelie did persue tyrant Makbeth,
Usurper of the Crowne, even to the death.
These castles ruines when we did consider,
We saw that wasting time makes all things wither.
To Dupline then, and shades of Aberdagie,
From thence to Mailer, and came home by Craigie.
Soone by that time, before three dayes were done,
We went to se the monuments of Scone,
As was our promise, Scones Nymphs see we must,
For in such vowes we were exceeding just.
And there with Ovid thus did we declare,
Heere is a greene, where stood a Temple fair:
Where was the fatall chaire, and marble stone,
Having this Motto rare incisde thereon,
This is the stone, if fates do not deceave,
Where e're its found the Scots shall kingdome have.
Which Longshanks did transport to Troyuovant,
As Troy took in the horse by Grecia sent
So we, who sprung were of the Grecian crue,
Like stratageme on Trojans did renew.
Oh if this fatall chaire transported were
To Spaine, that we like conquest might make there,
From thence to Italie, to Rome, to Grece,
To Colchos, thence to bring the golden fleece:
And in a word, we wish this happie chaire
Unto the furthest Indes transported were,
That mightiest Kingdomes might their presents bring,
And bow to Charles as to their soveraigne King.
Neerby we view that famous Earthen Mount,
Whereon our Kings to crowned be were wont:
And while we do consider, there we found
Demonstrat was the quadrat of the round,
Which Euclide could not finde, nor Pater Erra,
By guesse we did it finde on Omnis terra.
And if you Geometers hereof do doubt,
Come view the place, and yee shall finde it out.
A demonstration so wondrous rare,
In all the world, I think, none may compare.
Thence need we must go see the Mure of Scone,
And view where Pights were utterlie undone
By valiant Scots, and brought to desolation,
That since they never had the name of nation.
Seven times that fight renew'd was in one day
Pights seven times quaild, Scots were victorious ay;
Hence is it said, when men shall be undone,
We shall upon them bring the mure of Scone.
King Donskine with his remnant Pights neere Tay
All kild, did crown the victorie of that day.
Then valiant Kenneth went to Camelon,
And threw to Earth King Donskins ancient throne.
So greatest Kingdomes to their periods tend,
And everything that growes, must have an end.
Where is that golden head that reing'd so long,
The silver armes and bellie of brasse most strong?
The yron legs divided now in toes
Are mixt with clay: and so the world it goes.
Thus nations like stars in multitude,
Like sand on shore, or fishes in the floud;
Yea rooted in the Earth so deep, so long,
As on the mountains grow the Cedars strong,
Yet time hath overturn'd them, and their names
Are past, as Letters written on the streames:
To tell us, here we have no constant biding,
The world unto decay is alwayes sliding,
One Kingdome ever doth remaine, and all
Gainst it who rise to powder turne they shall.
Neere this we did perceave where proud Makbeth,
Who to the furies did his soul bequeath,
His castle mounted on Dunsinnen hill,
Causing the mightiest peeres obey his will,
And bow their necks to build his Babylon;
Thus Nimrod-like he did triumph upon
That mountain, which doth overtop that plaine:
And as the starrie heaven he should attaine,
A loftie tower, and Atlas caused build,
Then tyrannizing, rag'd as Nimrod wild:
Who had this strange response that none should catch him
That borne was of a woman, or should match him:
Nor any horse should overtake him there,
But yet his sprite deceav'd him by a mare,
And by a man was not of woman borne
For brave Makduff was from his mother shorne.
Makduff cald Thane of Fife, who home did bring
King Malcolme Kenmore was our native King.
Ken-more, great-head, a great-head should be wise,
To bring to nought a Nimrods enterprise!
Vp to Dunsinnen's top then did we clim,
With panting heart, weak loynes, and wearied limme,
And from the mountains height, which was well windie,
We spy where Wallace cave was at Kilspindie.
But there we might not stay, thence to the plaine
With swifter pace we do come down againe.
Descent is easie, any man can tell;
For men do easelie descend to Hell.
When we had view'd these fields both heere and there,
As wearied Pilgrims gan we Home to fair;
Home, happie is that word, at Home in Heaven,
Where Gall now rests above the Planets seven,
And I am left this wretched Earth upon,
Thy losse, with all my Gabions, to bemoane:
Then mourne with me my Gabions, and cry,
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?
The ninth Muse.
What! Could there more be done, let any say,
Nor I did to prevent this dolefull day?
For when I saw Galls fatall constellation
Would not permit him in this Earthly station
Long to abide; then did I give a tryall,
To make impartiall fate susteene denyall,
By herbarising while I prov'd my skill,
On top of Law-Tay, and stay Mooredowne hill,
Collecting vegetables in these parts,
By all the skill of Apollinian Arts,
If possible't had been, fate to neglect him,
By heavenlie skill immortall for to make him.
But sith that Phaebus could not stemme the bloud
Of Hyacinthus in his sowning moud,
How then should I? a mortall! ah too shallow!
In wit and art presse to outreach Apollo?
Far be the thought, I therefore must absent me,
And never more unto the World present me,
But solitarie with my Gabions stay,
And help them for to mourne till dying day.
Then farewell Cabine, farewell Gabions all,
Then must I meet in heaven with Master Gall:
And till that time I will set foorth his praise
In Elegies of wo, and mourning layes,
And weeping for his sake still will I cry,
Gall, sweetest Gall, what ailed thee to die?