Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1883-06-14
Seletted gnetrp.
THE VISION.

The following exqusitely beautiful poem was
written by James Hislop, once shepherd boy,
but afterwards school teacher. 1t was written
near the grave of Richard Cameron, VINO 1ell al
Aird's Moss, in Scotland, on the End OF July,
1880. To those having correct knowledge OF the
events which transpired in Scotland during the
reign of Charles H.. and especially to those VINO
know the history Of Cameron and his followers,
the poem is full of tender pathos. Richard came
ron and many of his followers fell struggling
against fearful odds for civil and religious hDer-
ty. On the 3rd of June, 16s0-less than two
months before the death of Cameron, they pub
lished to the world the following Declaratlon
'We do declare that we shall set up over our.
selves and over what God shall give us power OF,
government and governors according to the WORD
Of God that we shall no more commit tne gov
ernment of ourselves and the making or laws
for us to any one single person, this kind OF gov,
ernment being most liable to inconvenience, ana
aptest to degenerate into tyranny. Near one
hundred years after the publication of this Dec
laration the American people, by their CHOSEN
representatives, adopted its sentiment and pup
iished it to the world, calling it "THE DEcLARA-
TIoN OF INDEPENDENCE"
In dream of the night was waited away,
TO the muirlands of mist, where the martyrs lay
Where Cameron's sword and his Blole are seen,
Engraved on the stone where the heatner grows
green.
Twas a dream of those ages ofdarkness and blood,
When the minister's home was the mountain ana
wood;
When in Wellwood's dark valley the standard OF
Zion,
All bloody and torn, 'mong the heather was lying.
Twas morning; and summers young sun from
the east,
Lay in loving repoSe on tne green hiouA"'ii .
breast;
On Wardlaw and Cairntable the clear shining dew,
Glisten ID sheen 'mong the heath-bells and noun
tain 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 solitudes, lengthen q and
Were the fwhistling of plovers and bleating OF
sheep.
And Wellwood's sweet valley breath'd music
and gladness,
The fresh meadow blooms hung in beauty and
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 scen'ry of beauty but sorrow
For they knew that their blood would bedew 1t
tomorrow.
Twas the few faithful ones who with Cameron
Conceapd 'mong the mist, where the heath-fowl
was crying,
For the horsemen of Earlshall around them were
lowering
Ana Cnolr relIS tAlou6l eLo eAiAiA
misty covering.
Their faces grew pale, and their swords were
unsheath'd,
But the vengeance that darkened their brow was
unbreathd;
With eyes turned to heaven, in calm resignation,
They sing their last song to the God of salvation
The hills with the deep mournful music were
ringing,
The curlew and plover in concert were singing
DIT tbo ,,oalody mid darisiOn and lauphter.
AS the host of ungodly rush'd on to the slaughter.
Though in mist, and in darkness, and fire, they
were shrouded
Yet the souls of the righteous were calm and
unclouded,
Their dark eyes fash'd lightning, as firm and
unbending,
They stood like the rock which the thunder is
rending.
The muskets were flashing, the blue swords were
cleaning,
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 cloud de-
scended;
Its drivers were angels, on horses of whiteness,
And it's burning wheels turned on aXles ofbright-
ness.
A seraph unfolded it's doors bright and shining,
All dazzled like gold of the seventh refining,
And the souls that came forth ont Of great tribu-
lation,
Have mounted the chariot and steeds of saliva
ton.
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
you,
A crown never failing, kingdom of glory!