Caledonia Triumphans: A PANEGYRIC To the KING.  

THrice mighty PRINCE, Illustrious by thy Birth,  
Bellona's Glory: Splendour of the Earth.  
Wonder of Bravery, and of charming Parts,  
Great Conqueror of Kingdoms and of Hearts,  
All the famed Hero's in our Age that be,  
Quite lose their Lustre, when compared with Thee.  
Blessed Peacemaker in our Bloody Wars,  
Wise Reconciler of Intestine Jars.  
The Martial THISTLE buds, and no more withers,  
The fragrant ROSE its Scent again recovers.  
The HARP is tuned: And valiant SIR, to Thee,  
The Conquering LILIES bow and humbled be.  
The Balance of all Europe SIR, is Yours,  
Sole Help and Shelter of oppressed Powers.  
No Mortal in his Veins bears nobler Blood,  
Sprung from a Race, both Ancient, Great and Good,  
Defenders of our Faith, to Pop'ry Foes,  
This Holland, Flanders, and all Europe knows.  
O! happy ORANGE-TREE, both Branch and Root,  
That hath blest Britain with such cordial Fruit,  
Yea, those that in the Northern World do dwell,  
Are much refreshed by the very Smell.  
Which perfumes all our European Costs,  
Through Boreas' Blasts and Hyperborean Frost.  
To your own Thule, and the Orkney Isles,  
And round cold Russia many thousand Miles.  
Which rare Accomplishments that shine in You,  
Makes CALEDONIA thus her Case renew.   

Now if Great SIR, you list to lend an Ear,  
From a far Country, joyful News we hear,  
Zephyrus gently blows, and Whistling, Sings,  
Here, my sweet Gales, delicious Tidings brings.  
Fourth of November, that auspicious Day,  
Your valiant SCOTS their Colours did display,  
Into the Western World, where they did meet,  
Thousands of Welcomes prostrate at their Feet.  
The Sovereign Director was their Guide,  
Neptune them favoured; Earth, Seas, Wind and Tide.  
The Natives made their Joys ring to the Skies,  
And them adored as Demi-deitys.  
Kind harmless Heathens, whom through time we vow,  
To train good Subjects both to GOD and You.  
St. ANDREW our first Tutelar was he,  
The UNICORN, must next Supporter be,  
The CALEDONIA doth bring up the Rear,  
Fraught with brave hardy Lads, and void of Fear;  
All splendedly equipt, and to the Three,  
The Endeavour and Dolphin Handmaids be.  
Who to these Praises, this Addition have,  
No Injuries they'll give, nor yet receive.  
Both Ships and Men commanded Sir, it's true,  
By Captains both of Sense and Honour too.  
Nor are these Youths the Scum of this our Land,  
But in effect, a brave and generous Band.  
Inspired with thirst of Fame, and fond to have,  
Titles upon the Marbles of their Grave.  
And though that hundreds in that Train do come,  
Whose Virtues are eclipsed with want at Home.  
Yet were there Means but equal to their Mind,  
In all the World you should not braver find.  
But to allay Youths rash unwary Deeds,  
They have their Orders sent from elder Heads.  
Of a wise Senate, who Consult and Vote,  
What is the Companies Interest, and what not.  
At Landing, Fertile Fields and Golden Mountains,  
Saluted them, with clear and crystal Fountains;  
Roots, Flowers and Fruits, for Physic, and to eat,  
And neither pinching Colds, nor scorching Heat.  
Rivers, safe Bays, variety of Plants,  
And useful Trees which our old Britain wants.  
Here grows the Nicaragua, Manchionell,  
Vannileos' also, that perfumes so well.  
Our sable night is gone, the day is won,  
The SCOTS are followed with the RISING-SUN.  
The Evening crowns the Day, and what remains?  
Old ALBANY its ancient Fame regains.  
FERGUS 1st. Your brave Ancestor gave the Scots of old  
FERGUS 1st. A Lion rampant in a field of Gold.  
When he our Coat-Armorial did dispense,  
Which now is ours, in a true literal Sense.  
And can our Breasts such swelling Joys contain,  
WILLIAM the Lion rules the SCOTS again:  
A Nation who with hearts, with hands and head  
Will serve you, Sovereign Sir, in time of need.  
Warlike Gustavus, and Great Charl le maigne,  
Did ne'er employ our Martial Swords in vain.  
The Britons, Romans, Saxons and the Danes,  
Did all invade Us, but with fruitless Pains.  
The treacherous Picts did oft attempt the same;  
But for Reward, lost Country, Life and Name.  
The noble Race of Douglass did excel  
In Military Glory, all can tell  
At Home, and Foreign Shores, yea, ever still,  
Of all the Surname, very few prove ill.  
The ancient graham's are brave, and all confess,  
True to their Sov'raigns, chief in distress.  
The Danes who made our neighbouring Nation Slaves,  
Found here the Hays who beat them to their Graves.  
Kind Mantua hath never yet forgot  
Rare Creighton, called the Admirable Scot,  
Whose Life shows him a Miracle of Men:  
As it is drawn by an Italian Pen.  
Wallace and Bruce, I shall not now rehearse,  
Lest I offend you, Sir, with tedious Verse.  
And hundreds more of undenyed Fame,  
For Arts and Arms, whom I forbear to name.  
And as our Valour flew all Europe round,  
So now our Trade scarce both the Poles shall bond.  
If You but own us, Mighty Sir, and then  
No Devils we fear, nor yet malicious Men.  
What humane Counterplot can mar the thing,  
That is protected by Great-britains' King.  
Our Claim is just: and so we value not  
The Brags of Spain, nor Thundrings of the Pope,  
Who may well threaten; Yet Don dare not fight,  
When he minds DARIEN, and old Eighty eight.  
Their Cruelties were Catholic indeed,  
Not Christian, to poor Indians and their Seed.  
But those they call Heretics of our Nation,  
We hope will show a meeker Reformation.  
Nor shall insulting Neighbours henceforth taunt  
The generous SCOTS, for Poverty and Want.  
Our Ships through all the World shall go and come,  
Even from the Rising to the Setting Sun.  
Then shall we from the genuine Spring command,  
What now we truckle at a second hand.  
And we shall flourish by your Royal Rays,  
With Honour, Riches, and old Nestor's days:  
And ever bless our GOD, and praise our KING,  
And CALEDONIA's Triumphs gladly sing.   
No mercenary thoughts, or base design  
Of servile Flattery, made these Verses mine.  By a Lover of Caledonia, and the Muses.  

Edinburgh, Printed by the Heirs and Successors of Andrew Anderson, Printer to the Kin●● most Excellent Majesty, 1699.