174

THE TWO ERAS OF THE LAND.

The northern noonday saw the rising war,
Like sudden tempest on a wind-swept sea,
The shout rose upwards to the evening-star,
The land, the land is free!

Amid the oppressor's threats they planted high
The ancient flag of liberty,

That banner floats unthreatened to the sky,-
The Bruce hath set them free!

They sung the song of liberty again,

'Twas a still louder song than that of

yore;

It went like thunder-notes o'er hill and plain,
It woke each echoing shore.

It woke the heart of age and heedless youth,
It woke the spirit of the sleeping land,
It roused them to the voice of holy truth;
Who could that voice withstand?

you free

Hear ye the truth, and hearing it, obey;
Know ye the truth, the truth shall make
Love not the midnight, love the lightsome day,

That light is life and liberty.

THE TWO ERAS OF THE LAND.

175

The Free One makes you free; he breaks the rod,
He bids you lift your heads to sky and sun,
As freemen of the everlasting God,

Kneeling to Him alone.

The Free One makes you free; be slaves to none,
Priest, prince, or self, in body or in soul;
Serve thou with all thy strength thy God alone,
Yield but to His control.

The True One gives you truth; a heritage,
Richer than that which kings may buy or sell,
For children's children to the farthest age;
Guard thou that treasure well.

Round went the message, over rock and plain,
Like burning words from lips of prophet old,
Priest, king, and lord opposed the voice in vain,
It would not be controlled.

Wide o'er the land went forth the new born day,
Brightening alike the cot, the hall, the throne,
Long years of darkness vanish at its ray,

Ages of night have gone.

176

MARTYR'S HYMN.

The Christ has come, the breaker of all chains,

The giver of the heavenly liberty;

Peace, light, and freedom to these hills and plains !— The land, the land is free!

MARTYR'S HYMN.

"The glory of children are their fathers."-PROV., xvii. 6.

THERE was gladness in Zion, her standard was flying
Free o'er her battlements, glorious and gay;
All fair as the morning shone forth her adorning,
And fearful to foes was her godly array.

There is mourning in Zion, her standard is lying
Defiled in the dust, to the spoiler a prey;
And now there is wailing, and sorrow prevailing,
For the best of her children are weeded away.

The good have been taken, their place is forsaken;
The man and the maiden, the green and the grey;
The voice of the weepers wail over the sleepers,
The martyrs of Scotland that now are away!

MARTYR'S HYMN.

177

The hue of her waters is crimsoned with slaughters, The blood of the martyrs has reddened the clay; And dark desolation broods over the nation,

For the faithful are perished, the good are away!

On the mountains of heather they slumber together;

On the wastes of the moorland their bodies decay; How sound is their sleeping, how safe is their keeping, Though far from their kindred they moulder away.

Their blessing shall hover, their children to cover,
Like the cloud of the desert, by night and by day,
Oh, never to perish, their names let us cherish,
The martyrs of Scotland that now are away!