"Great, Good, and Just, could I but rate
My grief, and thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep the world in such a strain
As it should deluge once again:
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus' hands than Argus' eyes,
I'll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds
And write thine epitaph in blood and wounds."
He wrote, too, a famous song known as Montrose's Love-song. Here it is:—
"My dear and only love, I pray
This noble world of thee,
Be governed by no other sway
But purest monarchie.
"For if confusion have a part
Which vertuous souls abhore,
And hold a synod in thy heart,
I'll never love thee more.
"Like Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone,
My thoughts shall evermore disdain
A rival on my throne.
"He either fears his fate too much
Or his deserts are small,
That puts it not unto the touch,
To win or lose it all.
"But I must rule and govern still,
And always give the law,
And have each subject at my will,
And all to stand in awe.
"But 'gainst my battery if I find
Thou shun'st the prize so sore,
As that thou set'st me up a blind
I'll never love thee more.
"If in the Empire of thy heart,
Where I should solely be,
Another do pretend a part,
And dares to vie with me:
"Or if committees thou erect,
And goes on such a score,
I'll sing and laugh at thy neglect,
and never love thee more.