Tales of the Covenanters

TALES
OF THE
COVENANTERS
ELLEN JANE GUTHRIE
ELEVENTH EDITION
LONDON SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT & CO GLASGOW: THOMAS B. MORISON 1920
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION.
The kings of old have shrine and tomb In many a minster's haughty gloom; And green along the ocean's side The mounds arise where heroes died; But show me on thy flowery breast. Earth! where thy nameless martyrs rest! The thousands that, uncheer'd by praise, Have made one offering of their days; For Truth, for Heaven, for Freedom's sake. Resigned the bitter cup to take; And silently, in fearless faith, Bowing their noble souls to death. Where sleep they, Earth?—by no proud stone Their narrow couch of rest is known; The still, sad glory of their name Hallows no mountain into fame. No—not a tree the record bears Of their deep thoughts and lonely prayers. Yet haply all around lie strew'd The ashes of that multitude. It may be that each day we tread Where thus devoted hearts have bled; And the young flowers our children sow Take root in holy dust below. O, that the many rustling leaves, Which round our home the summer weaves, Or that the streams, in whose glad voice Our own familiar paths rejoice, Might whisper through the starry sky, To tell where those blest slumberers lie Would not our inmost Hearts be thrill'd With notice of their presence fill'd, And by its breathings taught to prize The meekness of self-sacrifice?— But the old woods and sounding waves Are silent of these hidden graves. Yet, what if no light footstep there In pilgrim love and awe repair. So let it be!—like him whose clay, Deep buried by his Maker lay. They sleep in secret—but their sod, Unknown to man, is marked of God! Mrs. Hemans.
Scotland is indeed a land of romance. Her mouldering ruins are linked with legends and historical associations which must ever enhance their interest in the eyes of those who love to gaze on these the
Standing mementos of another age;
and the pages of her history teem with deeds of chivalry and renown that have won for Scotland a mighty name. Thus, while the annals of our country are emblazoned with the deathless names of those mighty heroes who fought and bled in defence of her freedom from spiritual bondage, the nameless mound, or simple cairn of stones, still to be met with on the solitary heath or sequestered dell, marks the spot where rests some humble champion of her religious liberties.