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Broadside regarding the last speech of the 'Cross of Edinburgh'


The Last Speech and Dying Words,



Which was hang'd, drawn and quarter'ed, on Monday the 15th
March, 1756, for the horrid Crime of being an Incum-
brance to the Street.

YOU sons of Scotia, mourn and weep,
Express your grief with sorrow deep ;
Let aged Sires be bath'd in tears,
And ev'ry heart be fill'd with fears,
Let rugged rocks with griefs abound,
And echo's multiply the Sound ;
Let rivers,   hills, let woods and plains,
Let morning dews, let winds and rains,
United join to aid my woe,
And loudly mourn my overthrow------
For Arthur's ov'n *, and Edinburgh cross,
Have by new schemers got a toss;
We heels o'er head are tumbled down,
The modern taste is London town.

I was built up in Gothic times,
And have stood several hundred reigns;
Sacred my mem'ry and my name,
For Kings and Queens I did proclaim;
I peace and war did oft declare,
And rous'd my country every where ;
Your ancestors around me walk'd,      
Your kings and nobles 'side me talk'd;
And lads and lasses, with delight,
Set tryst with me to meet at night;
No tryster e're was at a loss,
For why, I'll meet you at the cross.
On me great men have lost their lives,
And for a Maiden left their wives.
Low rogues like ways oft got a peg,
With turnip, t-d, or rotten egg,
And when the mob did miss their butt,
I was bedaub'd like any slut.
With loyal men, on loyal days,
I dress'd myself in lovely bays,
And with sweet apples treat the crowd,
While they huzza'd around me loud.

Professions many have I seen,
And never have disturbed been:
I've seen the Tory party slain,
And Whigs exulting o'er the plain;
I' ve seen again the Tories rise,
And with loud shouting pierce the skies,

Then mount the scale, and chace the Whig,
From Pentland-hiIls and Bothwel-brig.
I've seen the covenants by all sworn,
And likeways seen them burnt and torn.
I neutral stood, as peaceful Quaker,
With neither side was I partaker.

I wish my life had longer been,
That I might greater ferlies seen ,
Or else like other things, decay,
Which time alone doth waste away.
But since I now must lose my head,
I at my last this lesson read,
" Tho' wealth, and youth, and beauty shine,
" And all the graces round yon twine.
" Think on your end, nor proud behave,
" There's nothing sure this side the grave."

You jolly youths, with richest wine,
Who drunk my dirge, for your propine,
I do bequeath my lasting boon,
May heav'n preserve you late and soon ;
May royal wine, in royal bowls,
And lovely women, chear your souls,
Till by old age you gently die,
To live immortal in the sky.

To own my faults I have no will,
For I have done both good and ill:
As to the crime for which I die,
To my last gasp, Not guilty, I.

At my destroyers bear no grudge,
Nor do you stain their mason-lodge,
Tho' well may all by-standers see,
That better masons built up me.
The Royal statue in the closs
Will share the fate of me poor cross;
Heavens, earth and seas, all in a range,
Like me will perish for Exchange.


* A piece of very great antiquity, the property of a gentleman near Falkirk, who destroyed it, to build up a mill-dam-head
the river Carrron-But the river (swell'd as it ware with resentment) soon swept it off

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Probable date published: 1756   shelfmark: APS.4.83.4
Broadside regarding the last speech of the 'Cross of Edinburgh'
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