Then, captive of ages!
The trumpet shall thrill
From the lips of the seraph,
On Zion's sweet hill.

For, vestured in glory,
Thy monarch shall come:

And from dungeon and cave
Shall ascend the pale slave;
Lost Judah shall rise,

Like the soul from the tomb!

Praise.

You who dwell above the skies,
Free from human miseries,

You whom highest heaven embowers,
Praise the Lord with all your powers.
Angels, your clear voices raise,
Him, you heavenly armies, praise;
Sun and moon with borrowed light,
All you sparkling eyes of night!-

Praise his name with one consent!
O how great, how excellent,
Than the earth profounder far,
Higher than the highest star!—
Zion's sons rejoice and sing
To the honour of our king;
To the God whom we adore,
Sing a song unsung before!

Peden at the Grave of Cameron.

"Cameron's body was thrown into a hole in Airmoss, and there a simple tombstone marks his grave. To this spot did Peden, one of Cameron's dearest friends, repair. Harassed and vexed with personal sufferings, he sat down by the grave, and, meekly raising his eyes to heaven, prayed-O to be wi' Ritchie !'"

A SOUND of conflict in the moss! but that hath passed away,

And through a stormy noon and eve the dead unburied lay;

But when the sun a second time his fitful splendours gave,

One slant ray rested, like a hope, on Cameron's new-made grave.

There had been watchers in the night! strange watchers, gaunt and grim,

And wearily, with faint, lean hands, they toiled a grave for him;

But ere they laid the headless limbs unto their mangled rest,

As orphan'd children sat they down, and wept upon his breast!

L

Oh! dreary, dreary, was the lot of Scotland's true ones then

A famine-stricken remnant, wearing scarce the guise of men;

They burrowed few and lonely 'mid the chill, dark mountain caves,

For those who once had sheltered them were in their martyr-graves.

A sword had RESTED on the land!-it did not pass away;

Long had they watched and waited, but there dawned no brighter day!

And many had gone back from them who owned the truth of old:

Because of much iniquity their love was waxen cold!

There came a worn and weary man to Cameron's place of rest;

He cast him down upon the sod-he smote upon his breast

He wept, as only strong men weep, when weep they must or die,

And "O to be wi' thee, Ritchie ?" was still his bitter cry!

"My brother! O my brother! thou hast passed before thy time,

And thy blood it cries for vengeance, from this

purple land of crime;

Who now shall break the bread of life unto the faithful band?

Who now upraise the standard that is shattered in thine hand?

"Alas! alas! for Scotland! the once beloved of Heaven!

The crown is fallen from her head, her holy garment riven;

The ashes of her Covenant are scattered far and

near,

And the voice speaks loud in judgment which in love she would not hear!

"Alas! alas! for Scotland! for her mighty ones

are gone;

Thou, brother, thou art taken-I am left almost

alone;

And my heart is faint within me,

is dried and lost

and my strength

A feeble and an aged man alone against a host!

"Oh, pleasant was it, Ritchie, when we two could counsel take,

And strengthen one another to be valiant for His sake;

Now seems it as the sap were dried from the old blasted tree,

And the homeless and the friendless would fain lie down with thee!"

It was an hour of weakness, as the old man bowed his head,

And a bitter anguish rent him as he communed with the dead!

It was an hour of conflict, and he groaned beneath the rod,

But the burthen rolled from off him as he communed with his God!

"My Father! O my Father! shall I pray the Tishbite's prayer,

And weary in the wilderness whilst THOU wouldst keep me there?

And shall I fear the coward fear, of standing all alone,

To testify for Zion's King, and the glory of His throne!