Classic Poem

Hail Reekie! pride of Caledon',
Your grandeur's fam'd o'er Albion,
While sweet your bonny ancient Tron,
Sings light or mirk,
Sin' fortune has heap'd laurels on
Your auld Tron-kirk.

Ae hunder years past forty ane,
Lord Lauderdale laid my first stane;
A trusty servant since I've been
To Whig and Tory,
Still I stan' braw, and gash my lane
To Reikie's glory.

I thought ance I my birth wad loss,
Like Nether-bow, and Embro' cross,
Or Nithery's-wynd, be thrown, like dross,
In Nor-Loch how,
Wi' that Yierd-Brig to get a soss,
And hide my pow.

But now I canna screen my pride,
When I think on my braw new hide—
Nae less than Gothic back an' side,
To grace your centre:
And hopes you'll mind St Giles beside,
To dress and paint her.

Hail ancient neibour, auld St Giles,
Your stately structure time it foils,
In kirk an' state, ye've stood the broils
O' mony ages;
Still you and yours for glory toils,
Fam'd rev'rend sages.

The Abbey-Kirk, far fam'd in story,
Wha shin'd lang e'er the Brucian glory,
To view your ancient head sae hoary,
Gars Scotland tear;
And while ye fail, it makes me sorry,
While thrivin' here.

The Maiden's Tower we maun consider
Her naething else but just our mither;
Ance Arthur's seat and her together
Saird kings langsyne:
But kings are gane, the Guid knows whither!
Yet grand we shine.

For, stately neibour, thrang High-street,
Wi' George's-square, that's now compleat,
And our New Town, a sweet retreat
For times to come,
Wi' Hunter's-square, gars her compete
Wi' Greece and Rome.

Great Drummond, Blair, and famous Grieve,
Us frae consinement did relieve:
Now Stirling in their paths walks stive
To raise our fame,
That strangers now will scarce believe
That we're the same.

Unless they spy the royal dome,
Or walk up to Queen Mary's room,
Whare she bore James, her only son;
Then they'll declare,
London, farewell, this is our home,
Sweet George's square.

St Andrew's-square, and George's-street,
Brick London city dings compleat;
King George's house, is black as jet,
Beside Pall-Mall—
Holyrood-house, our royal seat,
It bears the bell!

Ilk stranger now admires your shades,
For Nature architecture aids;
Our towers and spires the sky invades,
Erect they speel,
Like the Egyptian Pyramids
Upon the Nile.

So oft you've been with success crown'd,
For Physic far you've been renown'd,
No cityin the globe around,
Scarce town or village,
But M ONRO 's name does there resound,
And Embro' college.

Here Learning, with her magic wand,
Does breed her pupils up aff hand,
In pulpit, or at bar to stand,
And thus dispense,
What is a beauty to our land,
By lair and sense.

Hence George Buchannan tun'd his lyre,
Hence Thomson sung with sacred fire,
Blair leads us to the heavenly choir,
(Fam'd prince of prose)
While Robertson, our historic fire,
Paints M ARY 's woes.

Be lib'ral, commoners, and peers,
To our New College, which now rears,
That Ninety two, in future years,
May testify
Fair Science, hand in hand she steers,
With charity.

Fam'd James the Fifth gave us, I ween,
Lords of Justiciary Fifteen;
T'enforce his laws they still convene,
(Such kings are rare.)
And juries justice to sustain
Was his sole care.

To evil souls be they a terror,
That they may shun each sinful error;
But to the good be they a mirror,
Our theme and praise,
As Magistrates does Reekie cheer her
In virtue's ways.

Fam'd Navigation wasts us store
In summer and bleak winter o'er:
For Neptune reigns frae shore to shore,
Round Fortha's coast.
While Petersburgh and Elsinore's
Pent up wi' frost.

Lang may Auld Scotia be renown'd
For lear and justice most profound;
May anarchy and pride be drown'd
Till time shall cease;
And honest men shall then be crown'd
In perfect peace.

We're snug, auld royal seat: Farewell—
We'll shine while there's a Lauderdale,
Or Lords like Provost Stirling leal,
With Creech none keener,
While Galloway, too, he stands your weal,
And Hart Conveener.