To the Memory of the much Honoured, And much Lamented THOMAS ROBERTSON BAILIE and BUILDER of EDINBURGH; Who Departed this Life; September 22. 1686.  
A Funeral ELEGY.  
THis World's a boiling Gulf of Griefs and Fears,  
Where We have still occasion of new Tears;  
Still something that molests us, whence we know  
Heaven cannot be possessed here below.  
What Heart? but that of Adamant, can hear,  
Not making Eyes, pay Tribute to his Ear;  
That THOMAS ROBERTSON is dead! a Fate,  
Which sounds just like the downfall of a State;  
Or some great Monarch, who with awful Hand  
Did sway a Sceptre, both o'er Sea and Land.  
Who was a Father unto all in need,  
On whom Ten Thousand did depend for Bread.  
Another Abraham whose Virtues vie,  
With all the Lights that twinkles in the Sky;  
So that our Fancy is oppressed with Glory,  
That filled our Eyes with Wonder, Tongues with Story.  
He did attain to Fortunatus' Purse,  
And Amalthea's Horn, without a curse.  
Yea when his Prosperous Springtides did prevail,  
His Barge was never burdened with sail:  
Such unambitious Looks he did advance,  
As could have put Pride out of countenance.  
And with the Product of his Heavenly Stock,  
He succoured all on wheel of Fortune broke.  
And did employ in Building Thousand Hands,  
Such Monuments, as to Amazement stands;  
Where Beauty mixed with Strength, doth so comply  
To serve at once the Viewers Use, and Eye:  
Like wise Seths Pillars, which have solid stood  
From Age to Age, spite of a threatening Flood.  
That to the World's last end there shall be known  
No Builder like to THOMAS ROBERTSON;  
Whose glorious Character for ever is;  
He turned Dunghills into Palaces.  
With all that Cost and Cunning Beautified,  
That adds to State, and nothing wants but Pride.  
All which within the Skies their heads do shroud,  
As they would ease great Atlas of his load.  
But this was not our Hero's chief Renown;  
That he Enriched and Beautified the Town.  
Nay more within his Glorious building falls,  
For he erected Men, as well as Walls;  
And like a Solon when a Magistrate,  
By Law and Building both preserved our State.  
And with a Sumptuous, Free Magnificence,  
Made Donatives both to the State and Prince.  
So that some Learned Bard to come shall sing,  
He was a Subject could oblige a King.  
Nay he obliged the Age, who left behind  
Live Characters of his Heroic Mind,  
Six Generous Models of himself whose Name  
Are both the Wonder and Discourse of F●●●  
He with his Lovely Mate from the first Start  
Of Hymen's bond, ran Heart still yoked in Heart.  
Inflamed alike with that Soul-Melting Fire,  
That their two Souls joined still in one Desire;  
Their house a Temple was where Prayer and Praise,  
Did Bless their nights, and sanctify their Days  
Which Prayers, and Alms unto Eternity  
With GOD, and Man embalms his Memory;  
Since like old Enoch, he to Bless is gone,  
I''s not his Death, but his Translation.  
Why then should we account his Gain our Loss?  
Heaven's hath the Gold, the Earth contains his Dross.  Non domus sed hospitium corpus est, brevem omnino moram si cum AEternitate comparetur trahimus. Quod si domesticae calamitatis vulnere afflicti, imis sensibus reponant, dolorem leniet. Crucius. Intervallis distinguimur, exitu aequamur. Seneca. 
Vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat  
inchoare longam.  
Hora fugit, rapido volvuntur tempora lapsu;  
Singulus accelerat Fata suprema dies:  
Vitae damna brevis, decus immortale rependit;  
Effugit ardentes posthuma fama Rogos.  N: Paterson.  

Edinburgh, Printed by I: Reid.