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.
Composed therein during a storm.
The beautiful chapel of Roslin is still in tolerable preservation. It was founded about 1446 by William Saint Clair, the princely Earl of Orkney, Shetland, and Caithness, etc., etc. The architecture is Gothic in its most rich and florid style. Among the profuse carving on the pillars and buttresses, the rose is frequently introduced, an allusion to the name, with which, however, the flower has no connection; the etymology being Ross-linnhe, the promontory of the linn, or waterfall. The chapel is said to appear on fire previous to the death of any of his descendants. This superstition, alluded to in the text, is probably of Norwegian derivation, and may have been imported by the Earls of Orkney into their Lothian dominions. The tomb-fires of the North are mentioned in most of the Sagas. The Barons of Roslin were buried in armour in a vault beneath the chapel floor.
Sir Walter Scott has from these incidents evolved the beautiful ballad in the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," in which Harald, the Earl's bard, tells us of the hapless fate of the dutiful Rosabelle. The earlier Earls of Orkney undoubtedly had scalds on their staff, so it is in perfect keeping with historical traditions to allot one to their successors, the St.Clairs. The name of Rosabelle only occurs once in connection with the family, and it is doubtful if the name was ever in general use. The Lords Marchers had met at Branxholme, and were passing time listening to the popular minstrelsy of the day. Albert Graeme had treated the nobles to a favourite Border ballad, "For Love will still be Lord of all"; the Saxon Fitztraver attuned his harp to the praises of "Surrey and Geraldine"; and then from his seat, with lofty air, rose