AN
ELEGY
IN MEMORY OF
SIR ROBERT GRIERSON,
OF LAG.
What fatal news is this I hear?
On earth who shall my standard bear?
For Lag who was my champion brave,
Is dead and now laid in his grave,
The want of him is a great grief,
He was as my manager and chief,
Who fought my kingdom to promove,
And to my laws he had great love,
Could such a furious fiend as I,
Shed tears, my cheeks could never dry;
But I could mourn both night and day,
’Cause Lag from earth is ta’en away.
It is no wonder I am sad,
A better friend I never had,
Through all the large tract of his time,
He never did my ways decline:
He was my trusty constant liege,
Who at all times did me oblige;
But now what shall I think or say?
By death at last he’s ta’en away.
He was a man of meikle zeal,
Who in my service did not fail;
He was no coward to relent;
