Dun-Edin's Cross, a pillar'd stone,
Rose on a turret octagon; 710
(But now is razed that monument,
Whence royal edict rang,
And voice of Scotland's law was sent
In glorious trumpet-clang.
O! be his tomb as lead to lead, 715
Upon its dull destroyer's head!--
A minstrel's malison is said.)--
Then on its battlements they saw
A vision, passing Nature's law,
Strange, wild, and dimly seen; 720
Figures that seem'd to rise and die,
Gibber and sign, advance and fly,
While nought confirm'd could ear or eye
Discern of sound or mien.
Yet darkly did it seem, as there 725
Heralds and Pursuivants prepare,
With trumpet sound, and blazon fair,
A summons to proclaim;
But indistinct the pageant proud,
As fancy forms of midnight cloud, 730
When flings the moon upon her shroud
A wavering tinge of flame;
It flits, expands, and shifts, till loud,
From midmost of the spectre crowd,
This awful summons came:-- 735