James Hyslop's The Cameronian's Dream

 THE CAMERONIAN’S DREAM.

In a dream of the night I was wafted away
To the muirland of mist, where the martyrs lay; 
Where Cameron’s sword and his Bible are seen
Engraved on the stone where the heather grows green.

‘Twas a dream of those ages of darkness and blood, 
When the minister’s home was the mountain and wood; 
When in Wellwood’s dark valley the standard of Zion, 
All bloody and torn ‘mong the heather was lying.

‘Twas morning; and summer’s young sun from the east
Lay in loving repose on the green mountain’s breast; 
On Wardlaw and Cairtable the clear shining dew
Glistened there ‘mong the heath-bells and mountain flowers blue.

And far up in heaven, near the white sunny cloud, 
The song of the lark was melodious and loud; 
And in Glenmuir’s wild solitude, lengthened and deep, 
Were the whistling of plovers and bleating of sheep.

And Wellwood’s sweet valleys breathed music and gladness, 
The fresh meadow blooms hung in beauty and redness; 
Its daughters were happy to hail the returning, 
And drink the delights of July’s sweet morning.

But, oh! there were hearts cherished far other feelings, 
Illumed by the light of prophetic revealings, 
Who drank from the scenery of beauty but sorrow, 
For they knew that their blood would bedew it to-morrow.

‘Twas the few faithful ones who with Cameron were lying
Concealed ‘mong the mist where the heath-fowl was crying; 
For the horsemen of Earlshall around them were hovering, 
And their bridle-reins rang through the thin misty covering.

Their faces grew pale, and their swords were unsheathed, 
But the vengeance that darkened their brow was unbreathed; 
With eyes turned to heaven, in calm resignation, 
They sang their last song to the God of Salvation.

Though in mist and in darkness and fire they were shrouded, 
Yet the souls of the righteous were calm and unclouded. 
Their dark eyes flashed lightning, as, firm and unbending, 
They stood like the rook which the thunder is rending.

The muskets were flashing, the blue swords were gleaming, 
The helmets were cleft, and the red blood was streaming, 
The heavens grew dark, and the thunder was rolling, 
When in Wellwood’s dark muirlands the mighty were falling.

When the righteous had fallen, and the combat was ended, 
A chariot of fire through the dark clouds descended; 
Its drivers were angels on horses of whiteness, 
And its burning wheels turned on axles of brightness;

A seraph unfolded its doors bright and shining, 
All dazzling like gold of the seventh refining: 
And the souls that came forth out of great tribulation, 
Have mounted the chariots and steeds of salvation.

On the arch of the rainbow the chariot is gliding, 
Through the path of the thunder the horsemen are riding. 
Glide swiftly, bright spirits! the prize is before ye, 
A crown never fading! a kingdom of glory!

                                - James Hyslop

David Dickson's Honey-Drops, or Crystal Streams; Flowing from Christ, the Fountain and Head thereof

Honey-Drops, or Crystal Streams;

Flowing from Christ, the Fountain and Head thereof.

By David Dickson

 

OF God's great mercy now I'll sing,

I will his mercy praise,

For to extol Jehovah King,

a quiv'ring voice I'll raise

Jer. 24.7, I'll be thy God thou say'st O Lord,

32, 38. this promis'd is to me;

What highest heaven can afford

I will vouchsafe on thee.

For this poor earth, thou needs not care,

Rev. 21.7. thou shalt inherit all;

Rom.13.17. With Christ my Son thou shalt be heir,

in glore celestial.

O pause my soul, and be amaz'd,

at this transcendent grace;

And for thy vileness be abas'd,

be sure to make thy peace.

Oh what am I but sinful dust,

and shall I have such store

Of riches, that shall never rust

in that eternal glore?

Is't not enough, I'm not in hell,

tormented in that fire?

For oft I did thy voice repel,

provoking thee to ire.

And shall not only thou relieve

me from the infernal lake?

But also promisest to give

good things for mercie's sake.

And shall I have not only crumbs,

which from thy table fall:

But more than all the richest sums

of gold and silver all.

And shall it not suffice to give

what creatures can afford?

But thou wilt have me for to live,

ev'n with thyself, O Lord!

Psal. 119.57. Shall God then be my portion?

his wisdom to direct?

His goodness for compassion,

his power to protect,

His holiness to sanctify,

his all sufficient store,

Me to provide with rich supply,

blest be my God therefore.

Shall his high habitation,

ev'n be my dwelling place?

Rom. 8.28. And shall his creatures ev'ry one

Hos. 2.18,19. make way for my solace?

Psal. 34.7. Shall his brave angels me surround,

and guard me from all ill?

O this great mercy hath no bound!

sing praises then I will.

Psal. 103. O then, my soul, let all my strength

and faculties each one,

Be consecrate to God at length,

for his salvation.

They time and talent then bestow,

his name to glorify;

Who did to thee such mercy show

praise him most cheerfully.

Psal. 103.11, But as his mercies great and free,

145.8. so doth it still endure,

Psal. 136. Most firm and sure t'eternity,

none shall their souls enjure.

Isa. 14.15. A woman may forgetful be

of infants of her born;

But tho' she would, yet would not God

me leave to be forlorn.

Isa. 54.10. The mountains may removed be,

the day and night may change,

Psal. 46.2. The hills cast into the sea,

tho' heav'n and earth do range.

Yet sure he will most tenderly,

his precious saints embrace;

Mat. 16.18. In spite of hell, they shall prevail,

and see his glorious face.

Isa. 49.10. I grav'n am on his palms, therefore

I'll not forgotten be;

Psal. 23.4. Tho' I were ev'n at death's dark vale,

it shall not terrify.

Isa. 54.7,8. His wrath may for a moment last,

to chasten me for sin;

Yea, everlasting kindness, I,

and favour hope to find.

Then I'll begin to banish sin,

contemning worldly toys;

With wings I'll fly and soar on high,

seeking for heav'nly joys.