YARROW REVISITED, AND OTHER POEMS
COMPOSED IN ROSLIN CHAPEL DURING A STORM
We were detained by incessant rain and storm at the small inn
near Roslin Chapel, and I passed a great part of the day pacing to
and fro in this beautiful structure, which, though not used for
public service, is not allowed to go to ruin. Here this Sonnet was
composed. If it has at all done justice to the feeling which the
place and the storm raging without inspired, I was as a prisoner.
A painter delineating the interior of the chapel and its minute
features under such circumstances would have, no doubt, found his
time agreeably shortened. But the movements of the mind must be
more free while dealing with words than with lines and colours;
such at least was then and has been on many other occasions my
belief, and, as it is allotted to few to follow both arts with
success, I am grateful to my own calling for this and a thousand
other recommendations which are denied to that of the painter.
THE wind is now thy organist;--a clank
(We know not whence) ministers for a bell
To mark some change of service. As the swell
Of music reached its height, and even when sank
The notes, in prelude, ROSLIN! to a blank
Of silence, how it thrilled thy sumptuous roof,
Pillars, and arches,--not in vain time-proof,
Though Christian rites be wanting! From what bank
Came those live herbs? by what hand were they sown
Where dew falls not, where rain-drops seem unknown?
Yet in the Temple they a friendly niche
Share with their sculptured fellows, that, green-grown,
Copy their beauty more and more, and preach,
Though mute, of all things blending into one.