there, watching high the least rms,

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 ed 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:

s, how chang'd the times to e!

their royal name low in the dust!

their hapless race wild-wand'ring roam!

tho' rigidw 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 pces and tow'rs;

where once, beneath a monarch's feet,

sat legition'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.