ALBION'S Elegy: OR, A POEM, Upon the High and Mighty Prince JAMES Duke of ALBANY and YORK, His Departure from SCOTLAND.  
Presented to His Royal HIGHNESS, By M. L.  
ALBANUM toto resonabunt littore ripae,  
Et tristes Elegos, te decedente, canemus.  
Edinburgh, Printed by the Heir of Andrew Anderson, Printer to His most Sacred MAJESTY. 1680.   

TO His Royal Highness, JAMES, Duke of ALBANY and YORK.  
ALBION'S Elegy:  

WHat to Departed, the DUKE? such News ye bring,  
As use t'assume the preying Eagles' wing:  
It's like the uncouth Accent ye mistook,  
Or Read the Thing in a Demurring look;  
Else pensive Thoughts possess my sleepy Head  
With th'Object, which awake to lose, I dread:  
But sure, no Dream my Fancy thus deludes,  
Upon my Watch such Jealousy intrudes,  
These Flames dispersed offend my tender Eyes,  
My Ears do itch with such noised Homilies;  
So that incensed Eolian Thunderclap,  
Had sure prognosticate this Dismal Rap:  
So Syren-pleasures Fatal events Form,  
And Halcyon Calmness hatch a future Storm.   

But whither this gay Navy Lee-ward Glides?  
Like Stately Genets Prancing on the Tides,  
Doth kind Enamoured Paris hither Sail  
To steal our Sparkling Helen, and prevail?  
These beauty's darts may, with the Grecian State,  
Inflame us to Rescue, but with worse Fate.  
Or, here dare these light sportful Yachts arrive,  
And of our Isle's Palladium us deprive●▪  
Let's shun Ulysses Guile, the Fate of Troy,  
To steal our GOD'S, and then our Isle destroy:  
The breach, if great Apollo once departed,  
May scarce prevent Politic Sinon's Art,  
For tho' repaired, and fenced 'gainst Foreign Ginn,  
The Grecian Horse may lurk secure within.  
Will this Abortive Exit leave a doom?  
As Caesar's sad recluse had done to Rome,  
The smooth-tongued Hostage to the Oil of Greece;  
Shall we let Jason steal our Golden Fleece,  
With fond Medea? rather let's implore  
Neptune, to ward the Argonauts from shore:  
Or if arrived, the Lion rampant Arm,  
Lest they the watchful Dragon learn to charm.   

But why, Great Sir, Desert you us so soon?  
Abridge our Year, and leave your Task undone?  
Doth not the Sun through the whole Zodiac reign?  
Before he Mount on Aries Horns again;  
Whereas you in the Archer but begun,  
And scarce through Winter's Scaly Sign have run;  
But also Flora's fragrant prime leapt o'er,  
With Ceres' verdant Robes, and Liber's store,  
While our obscure Horizon you decline,  
And in the Noon-tide intermits to shine:  
O! to Cimmerian darkness not expose  
Us, like those whom the Frigid Zone enclose,  
Or in the same Estate with those enrol,  
Whose direct Zenith is the Arctic Pole:  
Nay worse, while they enjoy Phoebus' power,  
His beams six Months displayed, and we but four.  
O let not Thetis Bowers our Titan shade,  
His flammed Chariot with her Mantle spread,  
Until another Phoebus' sway the Rains,  
Which our Lent Titan soon by course resigns:  
So Pylades is called Orestes Brother,  
Prompt to Die for, and Represent each Other;  
So it's betwixt fair Leda's Twins agreed,  
When one descends, the other to succeed;  
So the great Luminaries strait appear,  
Or hold Empire in either Hemisphere.  
Stand then, Our Sun, or let the posting Ships  
Embark another, else a long Eclipse  
We suffer, and without a misty Trope,  
Grim Saturn seems to cast our Horoscope.  
Her Golden Leaves the Marigold at Night  
Wraps up, and grieves her Sun's deprived sight,  
But to his early Rays she doth display  
Her cheerful Banners; yet both night and day  
Our Hearts must Frieze, our Eyes be Shut, and Swell  
With Tears, until your Glad arise dispel  
Our Sight's black Cloud, grief's Dew drink up, and drive  
Love's frost away, each Sense decayed revive.  
The Sun emits most Force, when most remote,  
When he aloft the Crab's Aspect hath got;  
Then if our Sun Ascend, let's but Entreat  
For the Reflections of his absent Heat.   

Hath ALBANY set Sail still to remain  
Abroad, or shortly to come Home again?  
Yes, to Return, like those, who to desire  
The City more, to Rural Farms retire,  
Can he forsake that Kindly Plot of Ground?  
Which his Ancestor's Fame, and Temples Crowned,  
Through whole five hundred, three Olympiad's hinge,  
A Century, and Decad strong of Kings;  
And which as many Monarch's counts, as are  
Days, when four Moons have couched their watery Care,  
Or Years, in full five Golden Numbers fixed,  
Lacking but Five Kings to complete the Sixt.  
But your Abode some Mystery Imports,  
I cannot Circumscribe it Long nor Short:  
If with the number of your Virtuous Acts,  
Through all thy sweet Deportment's Lively tracts,  
We Scan your Presence, and your Stay Compute,  
It might with Aged Tim's large Annals suit:  
But if your Stay We balance with the Joy,  
And Balmy pleasures which our Senses Cloy,  
Ah too abrupt! nay it as brief appears,  
As these Delights which so transport the Ears,  
Or of a well-tuned Lyre the warbling Note,  
Which hath an Obits with its Audience got.   

As if, when first an hopeful Youth the stage  
Had entered, and shown Wit more ripe than Age,  
The Curtain fell, the Scene became his Urn,  
The plotting Prologue to th' Epilogue turn;  
Sure it would move th' amazed Spectators more,  
Then his aspiring Spirit made glad before:  
Even so, Most Royal Sir, you first let's taste  
Your Lips delicious Fruit, unlocks the Breast  
Where we Contemplate BRITAIN'S Paradise,  
Elysium's rare Abstract; then in a trice  
Excluded from this Eden, all Afloat  
We're left, reflecting on the curious plot:  
What have we done? Omitted to effect?  
Did any Rules our Tasting e'er direct?  
Or Caveats starve? No, here the Serpent lurks,  
We could not Feed, unless we'd swelled like Turks.  
Our charmed Eyes, O had you never cloyed,  
Our Palate tickled, or we still enjoyed  
That pleasant prospect, this Soul-raping Guest,  
That Royal fare, we had been always Blest.  
But since you Veil anonthat splendid Face,  
The Diapason of Majestic Grace,  
Whose Symmetry had once the Cynic seen,  
It Tub and Sun, and Aliment had been;  
You even retract our Joy begun, and so  
Your Advent frames the Epoch of our woe;  
Here I could in the Adamant infuse  
A Melancholic Fit, the Flower de Luce  
Force in a stone to weep, in this Comprise  
All former woe, make Nature sympathize  
With her condoling Choir, but that my Grief  
Exceeds all these as far, as they belief.   

Is Caledon's Sun fled? Life of the nine,  
Of Honour, Pleasure, Fame, and virtue's Shrine;  
Fly hence Refreshing Pastime, and all Sport,  
Here let no active Exercise Resort:  
The Fields as Paralytic nod about,  
Clubs take the Cramp, and Gamesome-Balls the Gout;  
No more their Lungs the coursing Horses waste,  
But, by the slowest pace, strive to be last;  
Let Footmen to their flight add Breath, and feel  
A change, to lose the prize, tho'gain the heels,  
The trained Hounds all Discipline disdain,  
And at the Quest, or Hollow bark again;  
No search the Hare disclose, no fear her wake,  
While she the Plains, and they the Mountains take:  
And let no Gun with th'eager Sports-man frame,  
But wrist the Artist's Skill, and Master's Aim;  
Let no Enclosure, Grove, or Walking-plain  
Invite to Recreate, or Love entertain;  
Let no Heroic Virtue here Reside,  
Nor pompous Honour in proud Triumph ride,  
No generous Soul, here no good Genius haunt,  
The Valiant SCOTS of their Achilles Vaunt,  
Nor Mars Disciples speak, but Silence deep  
Like Punies of the Samian Wiseman keep;  
Affected Smiles no more Comedians Ape,  
Or wanton Looks invest; be forced to shape  
Their Mimic gesture, not to Passions shown  
In other Minds, but squared to their own,  
Let Tragic ends, and Interludes beguile  
The Comick-muse, in a Drammatick-stile;  
No Beauteous Madam more, or Courtly Wench  
Let moderate a Jig, or Galliard-French,  
But Chorus-like, to Vary with the Time  
And tune her feet proportioned to a Chime:  
Let neither Court nor Courtier stay behind,  
Since swelling Waters, with the justling Wind  
Contending for Supremacy, through pride,  
Give the Advantage both of Wind and Tide;  
Let both unite to heave them to the Port  
Now most desired, where they Saint James his Court  
Preparing with all Vines, and various Cates,  
All solemn Pomp, and Ornament of States,  
With Purple, Porphery, and Turkie-work,  
May welcome, and receive, the Duke of York,  
Whose mild Aspect, and Influence on CHARLES,  
May Introduce the Barons, Lords, and Earls  
Of th'Ancient Kingdom, joint to represent  
Their equal-pressing Grievance, and Dissent  
Of ALBANIE's dire Exodus; their Eye,  
Whose sad Privation nothing can supply,  
But Talion Justice; or to reinstall  
The Headstone, snatched away from ALBION's wall.  
Jove's Sacred Brood no more a drop distil  
Of fluent Nectar, in a Poet's Quill,  
Through the Castalian Crystal Limbeck Strained,  
From Helicon's adjacent Fountain drained,  
Whereby in Lyric, or in Epic Verse,  
He may a Hero's Praise, or Acts rehearse,  
But Elegies compile, since Sir, to you,  
Poets all kinds of Panegyrics Owe,  
And when done all that Art, or thought can Vent,  
But patcheth Chinks of the old Argument.   

Lo what Distress I grasp with in extreme  
Lost both my sole Moecenae, and sole Theme,  
Nay to enlarge my Grief, complete my loss,  
I cannot by Retail Trade, nor in Gross:  
I henceforth bid to thee, fond Muse, adieu,  
To all the Whinning and the Bankrupt Crew;  
No more thy rambling Fantasies suggest,  
As passed a feigned Enthusiastic test:  
I'll no more chew the cud, and beat my brains,  
In hot persuits not empty all my Veins,  
For lo the trump that hug'd thee from the Womb,  
The same reponed, shall drag thee to thy Tomb.  
Thou mad'st me twice the Feet of ROYAL JAMES  
Salute, as Rivers ushered in by Thames  
To London's Streets, and welcome didst afford,  
Without exchange of a superfluous word:  
And wilt thou Train me in, Commence my fee?  
To consummate my Climacterick three,  
Which sure proves Dismal, since I'm forced to spell,  
And openly pronounce to Both, Farewell;  
Then Farewell Muse the Patron of my Crime,  
Thrice to accost a Prince with scantling Rhyme,  
Twice to present Tongue's Noble Architect,  
The Glean of his own rich Dialect.  
Thou mightst have rather stifled doting Love,  
Then the entrusted Talon not Improve.  
But Faith I'm loath that Brat to disinherit,  
Which Homage payea by Zeal, and not by Merit,  
And prompt his Clemency to interpose  
'Twixt Poet's Wrath, and her insipid Doses:  
Come truck along, and rather choose one Doom,  
To Hope abroad, than still Despair at home;  
Come let's attend the Ocean's Crowned Glore,  
And waste him safe unto the English Shore.   
FINIS.   

ALBION'S Farewell: OR, POEM, Presented to his Royal Highness returning to COURT.  
By the same Hand.  
ALBANUM en oculis abeuntem prosequor udis, Et dixit tenui murmure Lingua, VALE.  Ovid. 
Edinburgh, Printed by the Heir of Andrew Anderson, Printer to His most Sacred MAJESTY. 1680.   

TO His Royal Highness.  
ALBION'S Farewell.  

1.  
SInce Fates our pleasures thus disjoin,  
Out of one Mass two Bodies coin,  
yet with one breath inspired,  
We will the rigid Section find,  
Or can one half survive behind,  
when th'other hath retired;  
But we must now our half resign,  
So Honour bids, and we incline;  
The shrubs yield to the lofty pine.   

2.  
Should we your Sympathy augment  
By grudge? and be as impudent  
as him who chides his Friend,  
By some Emergent called away,  
And forced to abridge his Stay,  
as if Guests were consigned;  
So Honour calls you to set Sail,  
Your Tide, our Good, le'ts not bewail!  
But hearty impart all hail.   

3.  
Then Farewell MONARCH of one Heart,  
Whereof all SCOTLAND claims a part,  
except some clownish Boo'rs,  
Whose savage Breasts no Law can tame,  
Or Stars have influence to inflame,  
who feel no Higher Powers,  
Farewell our Hope's betrothed Dove,  
Darling of Thoughts, Loadstone of Love,  
Like Aristotle's Quadrate prove.   

4.  
To th'midle Region of the Air,  
May all the blustering Winds repair,  
But as much gentle Gale,  
Let Aeolus send from his Cave,  
As him to port in Wain may heave,  
Or chariot under sail.  
To tread the Sea when you're descried,  
The gods their Fish-tailed Steeds bestride,  
And summon all their Host to ride:   

5.  
In Honour gladly to attend,  
From Fear release, from Harm defend  
your welcome Laureat-Train.  
Let Neptune all Sea-passions curb,  
Which may obstruct, or dare disturb  
The Caesar of the main;  
Or which may move in any sort  
The second Column of the Court,  
And render it to need support.   

6.  
O! let's not this Occasion slip,  
Of reering up ourselves the Ship,  
wherein, Great Sir, secure  
You may all Storms outride, and cast  
Safe Anchor on our Breasts; the Mast  
shall Valour's proof endure,  
Experience shall the Rudder steer,  
Sound Resolution Topsail bear,  
Our Loyalty the Flag appear;   

7.  
The full-spread Sails, enlarged Hope,  
Our hearty Wishes Teloscope,  
The Badge our Lion show;  
The Soul's Cinqueport shall Compass be,  
And to the Needle (Love) agree,  
As always fixed on you.  
Farewell Elected Admiral  
Of CALEDON's high Brazen wall,  
Which will all Hostile force appall:   

8.  
Nor Competition dare invest  
Her outward dress, and tho' possess●●  
with hidden flames, yet must  
In her own ashes strait consume,  
Or otherwise produce but fume  
the Honour to adjust.  
Farewell the most adventurous Prore,  
That e'er cut Sea, or Jason bore,  
Your fraught without exchange restore.   

9  
Unless supreme great Caesar please,  
To prove thy Conduct in the Seas,  
to whose Empire most pure  
Strick sail, and all Obedience show,  
Crave humbly home to steer, and view  
his Primogeniture.  
Farewell the most renowned Pair,  
That  tread Land, or Main did square,  
This yields to You, that vails to Her.   

10.  
Lo how the Fishes 〈…〉  
As if they did more pleasure 〈◊〉  
from her ●●●●●●ing eye,  
Then Rocks from Amphion's w●rlding 〈◊〉  
Or that Fish which his back did 〈◊〉  
for Arion's melody.  
Farewell bright Lamps, and all your Train,  
Your Luster always to retain,  
Long both in Love, and Honour reign.   

11.  
Let SCOTLAND penetrate the Skies  
By suffrage, and Heart-sacrifice,  
Jove's Herald to employ;  
That he their voyage a sweet sleep  
Make seem, time with the Sea-gods keep  
t'afford a safe Convoy.  
Let England Neptune's 〈…〉 pay  
Their other Hope de●●●d with the Bay  
Receive, and solemnize the day   

12.  
Of his long wished return, while we  
Long for the same, and so may He,  
by visiting once more  
This loving Clime, and tender Nurse,  
His presence hath removed the curse  
entailed on SCOTLAND poor.  
The very thought doth sweetly smell,  
Our Love return Glad-news; to dwell?  
He's on the road, ●●y do I add? FAREWELL.   
FINIS.