HERE Stuarts once in glory reigned,
And laws for Scotlands weal ordained;
But now unroofd their palace stands,
Their sceptres swayd by other hands;
Fallen indeed, and to the earth
Whence groveling reptiles take their birth.
The injured Stuart line is gone,
A race outlandish fills their throne;
An idiot race, to honour lost;
Who know them best despise them most.
180. Written by Somebody on the Window of an Inn at Stirling
written byRobert Burns
© Robert Burns