[On visiting Stirling, Burns was stung at beholding nothing but
desolation in the palaces of our princes and our halls of legislation,
and vented his indignation in those unloyal lines: some one has said
that they were written by his companion, Nicol, but this wants
confirmation.]
Here Stuarts once in glory reign'd,
And laws for Scotland's weal ordain'd;
But now unroof'd their palace stands,
Their sceptre's sway'd by other hands;
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.
* * * * *
THE REPROOF.
[The imprudence of making the lines written at Stirling public was
hinted to Burns by a friend; he said, "Oh, but I mean to reprove
myself for it," which he did in these words.]
Rash mortal, and slanderous Poet, thy name
Shall no longer appear in the records of fame;
Dost not know that old Mansfield, who writes like the Bible,
Says the more 'tis a truth, Sir, the more 'tis a libel?
* * * * *
THE REPLY.
[The minister of Gladsmuir wrote a censure on the Stirling lines,
intimating, as a priest, that Burns's race was nigh run, and as a
prophet, that oblivion awaited his muse. The poet replied to the
expostulation.]
Like Esop's lion, Burns says, sore I feel
All others' scorn--but damn that ass's heel.