oyal 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:
Address To Edinburgh(4/5)