THE COVENANTER'S BRIDAL.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume V, Issue 246, 18 October 1870, Page 4

THE COVENANTER'S BRIDAL.

The heather was green on the moorland and mountain ; ' ' .' The cowslip and daisy bloom'dfair on the lea ; The heathbell waved wild by the lone mossy fountain, Whose clear sparkling waters rolled swift to. the sea. 'Mong the white clouds of summer the laverock was singing A joyous love-song to its mate on the plain ; And the bleat of the mountain-goat- louldly was ringing, From grey, crag and green cliff it echoed again. The wail of the plover came down from the c rrie ; The cry of the shepherd came up from the fold ; The falcon sprang light from the cairn old and hoary, Screaming loud as to htaven his broad pinions unrolled. The bee sang his song as he sipped from each flower ; The butterfly sped o'er the bright-bosomed earth ; All nature, in woodland and green shady bower, Sang a sweet, laughing chorus of gladness and mirth. 'Iwas the days when our sires fled their houses of prayer, In the temple of nature to worship the Lord ; 'Mong ihe wild mountain glens where the fox had its lair, When one hand grasped the Bible, the other the sword. s Twas a time of stern ruin, when wide desolation, Like the simoom of Afric swept over the land ; When a peop'e, upheld by a strange exaltation, Braved death ere they stooped to a tyrant's command. In a dell, lone and deep, stood a youth and a maiden By an altar of turf, with their kinsmen around ; While the stern, rugged preacher, with years heavy laden, Bless'd the young hopeful pair whom in wedlock he'd bound. They had loved long and well ; in the days of their childhood On the muirland they'd sported, so joyous and free; She was fair as the primrose that bbws in the wild wood, And young Walter was worthy of Marion Lee The ring had been placed, and the word had been spoken ; But why stand the guests as if all were spellbound ? *Mid the clattering of sabres the charm soon was broken, And the troopers of Claverhouse circled them . round. " I have come with my horsemen to grace your blythe bridal, With my redcoats I've come to taste your good cheer," Quoth their gay, gallant captain, as up they did ride all, And light was his laughter and scornful his sneer. From his proud, prancing steed to the soil he leaped lightly, All bedecked out in scarlet and silver and gold ; His helmet he doffed to the bride, and bowed sprightly ; His bearing was high, and his'speech it was bold » " High dames have I seen whom I thought fair and peerless, In many a gay palace and proud lordly hall ; Now I know that the muirland, so bleak, cold, and cheerless, Hath a flower that in beauty surpasseth them all. " Shall those bright eyes glance love, shall those charms be wasted On the base, canting churl that stands by thy side? Shall he kiss those rich lips that c'en Jove might have tasted ? The lips I shall kiss, be thou maiden or bride." The cheek of the bride rivall'd snow in its whiteness, As she eyed the insulter with sorrowful pride ; Flashed the eye of the bridegroom like lightning in brightness, As he bared the good weapon that hung by his side. The guests gathered round, but no word did they utter, But each man drew his claymore and tightened his plaid ; To the God of their fathers a prayer they did mutter, Then rushed to the combat with hearts undismayed. With the clamour of battle the valley is sounding, Horse and foot, hand to hand, they strive fierce on the plain ; Sabres gleam, muskets flash, wounded war-steeds are bounding, And the green sod is red with the blood of the slain. When the battle was o'er, and the troopers were flying, The bride sought the bridegroom all over the heath, And found him, where thick lay the dead and the dying, By the side of their leader, his eyes closed in death. She kissed his cold lips, and gazed in mute sorrow On all that so late was her joy and her ipride ; Her heart broke in twain, and ere dawning of - morrow Fair Marion Lee was a corse by his side.

"In their lives they, were lovely, in death not divided/ ... Together they laid them iwithin thelsame grave ; And o'er the fresh sod where their dust was confided Fell the sad tears of the gentle and brave. When round the bright hearth meet the young and the hoary, ~ " ; And the long nights of winter o'ershadow the glen, To this day they tell over this sad, fearful story Of the fairest of maids and the bravest of men. Dalkeith. T. Logan.