there, watching high the least alarms,
thy rough, rude fortress gleams afar;
like some bold veteran, grey in arms,
and mark'd with many a seamy scar:
the pond'rous wall and massy bar,
grim—rising o'er the rugged rock,
have oft withstood assailing war,
and oft repell'd th' invader's shock.
with awe-struck thought, and pitying tears,
i view that noble, stately dome,
where scotia's kings of other years,
fam'd heroes! had their royal home:
alas, how chang'd the times toe!
their royal name low in the dust!
their hapless race wild-wand'ring roam!
tho' rigid law cries out 'twas just!
wild beats my heart to trace your steps,
whose ancestors, in days of yore,
thro' hostile ranks and ruin'd gaps
old scotia's bloody lion bore:
ev'n i who sing in rustic lore,
haply my sires have left their shed,
and fac'd grim danger's loudest roar,
bold-following where your fathers led!
edina! scotia's darling seat!
all hail thy palaces and tow'rs;
where once, beneath a monarch's feet,
sat legislation's sovereign pow'rs:
from marking wildly-scatt'red flow'rs,
as on the banks of ayr i stray'd,
and singing, lone, the ling'ring hours,
i shelter in thy honour'd shade.