As token that not in vain had they prayed.
’Twas St. Edward’s Day, and the throng, gladhearted
With the blessing of peace had gone its way;
The last red beam of the sun had departed,
And twilight spread through the chapel gray.
And the marble kings on their marble couches
Once more they are lying in state, alone
Save for a nimble shadow that crouches
Behind the stone that was brought from Scone;
And the aged verger was never the wiser,