 | The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems |  |
206
CLAVERHOUSE.
Stand pilloried for ever on the stageOf infamy, and bear to latest time
The blood-red superscription of thy crime,
That men, O Graeme! may wonder at the age
Which gendered thee. What generous heart could wage
Such war with peasants, maidens in their prime,
And grey-haired pastors? Who so basely climb
To greatness, linking such a heritage
Of foul dishonour to a noble name?
But thy memorial perished: childless thou
Wert written in the land. Thine evil fame
Has smirched the gilded bauble on thy brow;
And the blind zeal which would exalt thee now
Embalms corruption, and must share its shame.
| The Vision of Prophecy and Other Poems | |