THE COVENANTER'S LAMENT FOR BOTH WELL BRIGG. By W. MACKWORTH PRAED. THE men of sin prevail ! Once more the prince of this world lifts his horn; Judah is scattered, as the chaff is borne Before the stormy gale. Where are our brethren? where The good and true, the terrible and fleet? They whom we loved, with whom we sat at meat, With whom we kneeled in prayer? Mangled and marred they lie Upon the bloody pillow of their rest; Stern Dalzell smiles, and Clavers with a jest Spurs his fierce charger by. So let our foes rejoice; We to the Lord, who hears their impious boasts, Will call for comfort; to the God of hosts We will lift up our voice. Give ear unto our song; For we are wandering o'er our native land As sheep that have no shepherd; and the hand Of wicked men is strong. Only to thee we bow: Our lips have drained the fury of thy cup; And the deep murmurs of our hearts go up To Heaven for vengeance now. Avenge, oh! not our years Of pain and wrong, the blood of martyrs shed, The rashes heaped upon the hoary head, The babe's bread torn away, The harvest blasted by the war steed's hoof, The red flame wreathing o'er the cottage roof, Judge not for these to-day! Is not their own dread rod Mocked by the proud, thy holy book disdained, Thy name blasphemed, thy temple courts profaned? Avenge thyself, O God! Break Pharaoh's iron crown; Bind with new chains their nobles and their kings; Wash from thine house the blood of unclean things, And hurl their Dagon down! Come in thine own good time! We will abide; we have not turned from thee, Though in a world of grief our portion be, Of bitter grief, and shame. VOL. II. G |