In an aisle of a great stone church by flickering light of candles perched under finials and arches tinged with gold, flags fly for blood shed on fields of old: They wave with wistful dreams of war and tell of great esprit de corps in a house made holy for a prince of peace whose dreams of love they speak of least
A description of my impressions visiting St. Giles’ Cathedral in Edinburgh. In particular the many military banners struck me.