address to edinburgh
edina! scotia's darli!
all hail thy paces and tow'rs,
where once, beh a monarch's feet,
sat legistion's sov&#n pow'rs:
from marking wildly scatt'red flow'rs,
as on the banks of ayr i stray'd,
and singing, lohe lingering hours,
i shelter in they honour'd shade.
here wealth still swells the golden tide,
as busy trade his bours plies;
there architecture's noble pride
bids elegand splendour rise:
here justice, from her native skies,
high wields her band her rod;
there learning, with his eagle eyes,
seeks s her coy abode.
thy sons, edina, social, kind,
with open arms the stranger hail;
their views enrg'd, their liberal mind,
above the narrow, rural vale:
atteill to sorrow's wail,
or modest merit's silent cim;
and never may their sources fail!
and never envy blot their name!
thy daughters bright thy walks adorn,
gay as the gilded summer sky,
sweet as the dewy, milk-white thorn,
dear as the raptur'd thrill of joy!
fair burrikes th' ad eye,
heaven's beauties on my fancy shine;
i see the sire of love on high,
and own his work indeed divine!
there, watg high the least arms,
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 ately dome,
where scotia's kings of other years,
fam'd heroes! had their royal home:
as, how g'd the times to e!
their royal name low in the dust!
their hapless race wild-wand&# roam!
tho' rigid w cries out 'twas just!
wild beats my heart to trace your steps,
whose aors, 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 darli!
all hail thy paces and tow'rs;
where once, beh a monarch's feet,
sat legistion's sn pow'rs:
from marking wildly-scatt'red flow'rs,
as on the banks of ayr i stray'd,
and singing, lohe ling&# hours,
i shelter in thy honour'd shade.