Scotlands Loyalty; Or, Sorrowful Sighs On the Death of our late sovereign His Sacred Majesty; CHARLES II. By the Grace of God, KING of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, &c.  

LEt music cease; yet let true Subjects Sing  
Sad Ela's Note( in Sorrow) for our King;  
Whom( to the worth) no Poet can bemoan,  
Though all the Seas were turned to Helicon.  
But there's no need our Sorrows to Infuse,  
Or strain eulogiums from a Mournful Muse  
In Stubborn Hearts; The cause of our sad Grief  
Brings Floods of Tears, though in the end Relief.  
Great CHARLES is Dead, who was Great Britains King,  
Great in Exploits, who Trophies great did bring,  
Of PEACE and Plenty to His own Three Realms;  
Through storms of State, which he did turn to Calms.  
Our bypassed Prophesies did point Him forth,  
Preceding Kings were Shadows of His worth:  
Then cast up Virtues to one total sum;  
Perfections Product will be found in Him.  
We will Engrave His Name in Marble Pure,  
With Diamond of the Black-Rock, to endure  
Till after Ages; that our Children may  
Pay Tears( for Tribute) to His Sacred day,  
Could Men in Arms our Sorrows stroke assail,  
Or floods of Tears with Cruel Death prevail,  
weed Muster all our Forces then with speed,  
And Weeping Eyes should overflow the Tweed.  
But sure the King of Kings hath given the stroke,  
And Mortals cannot Destiny revoke.  
We'll kiss the Rod; though we the smart regrate,  
Submitting though unto our rigid Fate.  
Yet we'll breath doleful Sighs to His sad hearse,  
That's dipped in Tears, and elegiac Verse;  
T'immortalize Great CHARLES His Royal Name,  
And be mementoes on the Wings of famed.   

Then rest dear Saint, though Dead yet still Alive;  
( Though laid in dust,) Times Age thou shalt survive:  
Thou'rt mounted high above the World's Renown,  
With Kings and Priests, to wear a Cross-less-Crown.  
And( though our Grief cannot our loss prevent)  
Let this sad Verse but give our Passion vent.    

EPITAPH.  

HEre lies Grave, majestic Dust;  
Which( when alive) was Good and Just;  
Great CHARLES the Second, Britain's King;  
Whose valour makes us Weep and Sing.  
His Crown environed was with Thorn,  
Which makes His Subjects double Mourn.  
By Land and Sea he did our Work:  
The Fear, and terror of the Turk.  
He Peace to Europe did restore,  
When other Kings had given it or.  
Defender of the Faith, that's true.  
Until he bad the World adieu.  
Let Princes Eternize His Name;  
And make his worth their Diadem.   

Now since the Sighs that did Eclipse our sky,  
By His Successor's Light begins to fly,  
o'er Tears we'll Triumph; since our sore doth bring  
The surest salue, which is a Lawful King.  
We'll pay Allegiance due on CHARLES His score,  
To JAMES the Seventh, and many Millions more.    

Printed by Nathaniel Thompson at the Entrance into the Old-Spring-Garden near Charing-Cross, 1685.