"Soon did thy smile, sweet baby, stint,
"Torn frae the nurse's knee,
"That smile, that might hae saften'd flint,
"And still'd the raging sea.
"Alas! twelve precious lives were spilt,
"My worthless spark to save;
"Bet[86] had I fallen, withouten guilt,
"Frae cradle to the grave.
"Repentance! signal of my bale,
"Built of the lasting stane,
"Ye lang shall tell the bluidy tale,
"Whan I am dead and gane.
"How Hoddom's lord, ye lang sall tell,
"By conscience stricken sair,
"In life sustain'd the pains of hell,
"And perish'd in despair.
FOOTNOTES:
[86] Bet—better.
[THE MURDER OF CAERLAVEROC.]
NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED.