written by somebody on the window
    of an inn at stirling, on seeing the royal palace in ruin.
    here stuarts once in glory reigned,
    and laws for scotland's weal ordained;
    but now unroof'd their palace stands,
    their sceptre's sway'd 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.

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