LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC. 127
THE LEGEND OF BEN LEDI.
N his couch Imperial Alpin
In majestic grandeur lay,
Dying with the sun that faded
O’er the plain of granite gray.
Snowy white his beard descended,
Flecked with foeman’s crimson gore,
And he rose and grasped his broadsword,
And he prayed to mighty Thor :
“God of thunder, god of battle,
God of pillage and of war,
Hear the King of Scotland dying
On the Leny’s thundrous shore!
“Thrice three hundred have I smitten
With my single arm this day;
Now of life my soul is weary,
I am old, I pass away.
“Grant me this, immortal monarch,
_ Such a tomb as ne’er before,
Such a tomb as never after -
Monarch thought or monarch saw.”