Page:The eighth sin (IA eighthsin00morlrich).pdf/58



Arthur's Seat there lies displayed The city in her dim brocade,
 * And stitching it with useful stars

The unseen tailors ply their trade.

The blue of dusk deeps into night Then flash the leaping seams of light,
 * By magic needlework there runs

The gleaming pattern, golden bright.

Across and over, up and down The sombre garments of the town
 * Swift hands are hemming threads of gold,

And sewing jewels on her gown.

Master, your town of long ago Still wears those yellow stars. And lo
 * The brightest-shining of them all

Is by the house in Heriot Row!