Ballad II.

The voice lifted up against Chapels and Churches.


And will ye forsake the balmy, free air,1
The fresh face of heaven, so golden and fair,2
The mountain glen, and the silver brook,3
And nature’s free bountith and open book,4
To sit and worship our God with a groan,5
Hemmed in with dead timber and shapen stone ?6
Away—away—for it never can be,7
The green earth and heaven’s blue vault for me-8


Woe ! woe ! to the time when to the heath-bell9
The seed of the Covenant sing their farewell,10
And leave the mount written with martyr story,11
The sun beaming bright in his bridegroom glory ;12
And leave the green birks, and the lang flowering broom,13
The breath of the woodland steeped rich in perfume ;14
And barter our life’s sweetest flower for the bran,15
The glory of God for the folly of man.16