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 my manager and chief,
Who sought my kingdom to improve,
And to my laws he had great love.
Could such a furious fiend as I
Shed tears, my cheeks would never dry,
But I would 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,
Thro' 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,
No man dare say he did repent
Of the good service done to me;
For as he liy'd so did he die.
