EDINA! Scotias darling seat!
All hail thy palaces and towrs,
Where once, beneath a Monarchs feet,
Sat Legislations sovreign powrs:
From marking wildly scattred flowrs,
As on the banks of Ayr I strayd,
And singing, lone, the lingering hours,
I shelter in they honourd shade.
Here Wealth still swells the golden tide,
As busy Trade his labours plies;
There Architectures noble pride
Bids elegance and splendour rise:
Here Justice, from her native skies,
High wields her balance and her rod;
There Learning, with his eagle eyes,
Seeks Science in her coy abode.
Thy sons, Edina, social, kind,
With open arms the stranger hail;
Their views enlargd, their liberal mind,
Above the narrow, rural vale:
Attentive still to Sorrows wail,
Or modest Merits silent claim;
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 rapturd thrill of joy!
Fair Burnet strikes th adoring eye,
Heavens beauties on my fancy shine;
I see the Sire of Love on high,
And own His work indeed divine!
There, watching high the least alarms,
Thy rough, rude fortress gleams afar;
Like some bold veteran, grey in arms,
And markd with many a seamy scar:
The pondrous wall and massy bar,
Grim-rising oer the rugged rock,
Have oft withstood assailing war,
And oft repelld th invaders shock.
With awe-struck thought, and pitying tears,
I view that noble, stately Dome,
Where Scotias kings of other years,
Famd heroes! had their royal home:
Alas, how changd the times to come!
Their royal name low in the dust!
Their hapless race wild-wandring 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 ruind gaps
Old Scotias bloody lion bore:
Evn I who sing in rustic lore,
Haply my sires have left their shed,
And facd grim Dangers loudest roar,
Bold-following where your fathers led!
Edina! Scotias darling seat!
All hail thy palaces and towrs;
Where once, beneath a Monarchs feet,
Sat Legislations sovereign powrs:
From marking wildly-scattred flowrs,
As on the banks of Ayr I strayd,
And singing, lone, the lingring hours,
I shelter in thy honourd shade.