XI.

My soul is free as ambient air,

Although my baser parts be mew'd;
Whilst loyal thoughts do still repair
To company my solitude;

And though rebellion may my body bind,
My king can only captivate my mind.

XII.

Have you not seen the nightingale
A pilgrim cooped into a cage,
And heard her tell her wonted tale,
In that her narrow hermitage?

Even then her charming melody doth prove
That all her bars are trees, her cage a grove.

XIII.

I am the bird whom they combine
Thus to deprive of liberty;

But though they do my corps confine,
Yet, maugre hate, my soul is free.

And though I'm mew'd, yet I can chirp and sing,
Disgrace to rebels, glory to my king!

XXXIX.

AN EXCELLENT NEW BALLAD.

TO THE TUNE OF "I'LL NEVER LOVE THEE MORE.'

(By James, Marquis of Montrose. Born
1612; died 1650.)

I.

Y dear and only love, I pray
That little world of thee
Be governed by no other sway
Than purest monarchy;

For if confusion have a part,
Which virtuous souls abhor,
And hold a synod in thine heart,
I'll never love thee more.

II.

As Alexander I will reign,
And I will reign alone;
My thoughts did evermore disdain

A rival on my throne.

He either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,

That dares not put it to the touch,

To gain or lose it all.

Napier's "Memoirs of Montrose," 1856, Appendix, p. xxxiv. from two old copies, and with a second part which is probably older than Montrose; see Chappell's "Popular Music of the Olden Time," second edition, p. 379. I have introduced one or two small corrections from other copies.

III.

But I will reign and govern still,
And always give the law,
And have each subject at my will,
And all to stand in awe;
But 'gainst my batteries if I find
Thou kick, or vex me sore,
As that thou set me up a blind,
I'll never love thee more.

IV.

And in the empire of thine heart,
Where I should solely be,

If others do pretend a part,
Or dare to vie with me,
Or if committees thou erect,
And go on such a score,
I'll laugh and sing at thy neglect,
And never love thee more.

But if thou wilt prove faithful, then,
And constant of thy word,
I'll make thee glorious by my pen,
And famous by my sword;
I'll serve thee in such noble ways
Was never heard before;

I'll crown and deck thee all with bays,
And love thee more and more.

XL.

UNHAPPY IS THE MAN.1

(By James, Marquis of Montrose.)

NHAPPY is the man

In whose breast is confined
The sorrows and distresses all
Of an afflicted mind.

The extremity is great:

He dies if he conceal,

The world's so void of secret friends,

Betrayed if he reveal.

Then break, afflicted heart!

And live not in these days,

When all prove merchants of their faith,—

None trusts what other says.

For when the sun doth shine,

Then shadows do appear;

But when the sun doth hide his face

They with the sun retire.

Some friends as shadows are,

And fortune as the sun;

They never proffer any help,

Till fortune hath begun;

Reprinted from Watson's "Scots' Poems," 1706-11, by Park, Walpole's "R. and N. A.," vol. v. p. 106, and Napier, "Life of Montrose," 1856, Appendix, p. xli., and p. 372.

But if, in any case,

Fortune shall first decay,

Then they, as shadows of the sun,
With fortune run away.

XLI.

MOTTOES AND EJACULATIONS.

BY JAMES, MARQUIS OF MONTROSE.

I.

ON CÆSAR'S COMMENTARIES.1

HOUGH Cæsar's paragon I cannot be,
Yet shall I soar in thoughts as high as he.

II.

ON QUINTUS CURTIUS.1

S Philip's noble son did still disdain
All but the dear applause of merited
fame,

And nothing harboured in that lofty brain,
But how to conquer an eternal name,
So great attempts, heroic ventures, shall
Advance my fortune or renown my fall.

Hawthornden MSS. vol. viii. Printed by Laing and

Napier.