 | Lyrical Poems |  |
99
THE COVENANTER'S LAMENT.
O waly waly up the glen,
And waly waly o'er the moor!
The land is full of bloody men,
Who hunt to death the friendless poor!
We brook the rule of robbers wild;
They tear the son from his father's lands,
They tear the mother from her child,
They tear the Bible from our hands!
And waly waly o'er the moor!
The land is full of bloody men,
Who hunt to death the friendless poor!
We brook the rule of robbers wild;
They tear the son from his father's lands,
They tear the mother from her child,
They tear the Bible from our hands!
Last night, as I came o'er the moor,
And stood upon the grey hill-crown,
I saw the red flames rise wi' power
Frae the lone house o' Alik Brown.
The godless grim dragoons were there,
And Clavers spake, that swearing loon,
“So burn the nest, so smoke the lair
Of all that dare to think wi' Brown!”
And stood upon the grey hill-crown,
I saw the red flames rise wi' power
Frae the lone house o' Alik Brown.
The godless grim dragoons were there,
And Clavers spake, that swearing loon,
“So burn the nest, so smoke the lair
Of all that dare to think wi' Brown!”
100
O blessed Lord, who rul'st in Heaven,
Who preached thy gospel to the poor,
How long shall thy best friends be driven
Like hunted hares from moor to moor?
Arise, O Lord, thy saints deliver,
This land from ruthless despots free!
'Neath wintry skies we sit and shiver,
But times of gladness come from thee!
Who preached thy gospel to the poor,
How long shall thy best friends be driven
Like hunted hares from moor to moor?
Arise, O Lord, thy saints deliver,
This land from ruthless despots free!
'Neath wintry skies we sit and shiver,
But times of gladness come from thee!
| Lyrical Poems | |