Above the Crags that fade and gloom <br />Starts the bare knee of Arthur's Seat; <br />Ridged high against the evening bloom, <br />The Old Town rises, street on street; <br />With lamps bejewelled, straight ahead, <br />Like rampired walls the houses lean, <br />All spired and domed and turreted, <br />Sheer to the valley's darkling green; <br />Ranged in mysterious disarray, <br />The Castle, menacing and austere, <br />Looms through the lingering last of day; <br />And in the silver dusk you hear, <br />Reverberated from crag and scar, <br />Bold bugles blowing points of war.<br /><br />William Ernest Henley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-a-window-in-princes-street/
