FOOTNOTES:

[2]

“——that wondrous dome,

Where, as to shame the temples deck’d

By skill of earthly architect,

Nature herself, it seem’d, would raise,

A minster to her Maker’s praise!

Not for a meaner use ascend

Her columns, or her arches bend;

Nor of a theme less solemn tells

That mighty surge that ebbs and swells,

And still, beneath each awful pause

From the high vault an answer draws,

In varied tone prolonged and high

That mocks the organ’s melody.

Nor doth its entrance front in vain

To old Iona’s holy fane,

That Nature’s voice might seem to say,

‘Well hast thou done, frail Child of clay!

Thy humble powers that stately shrine

Task’d high and hard—but witness mine!’”

Lord of the Isles. Canto IV. St. 10.

[3] Ode on the Superstitions of the Highlands.