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Northern Advocate, 26 November 1887, Page 3

A POEM.

(Written on a Highland Soldier who was found dead in Galloway.) By the Eev. W. Gillespib. From the climes of the sun, all war-worn and weary, A Highlander sped to Ms youthful abode : Fair visions of home cheer' d the desert so dreary, Though fierce was the noon-beam and steep was the road. Till spent with the march that still lengthen'd before him, He stopp'd by the way in a sylvan retreat ; The light shady boughs of the birch-tree wav'd o'er him, And the stream of the mountain fell at his feet. He sank to repose where the red heaths are blended, One dream of his childhood his fancy poss'd o'er ; But his battles are fought, and his march is now ended, The sound of the bag-pipe bhall wake him no more. No arm in the day of the conflict could wound him, Though war launched her thunder and fury to kill ; But the angel of death m the desert has found him, And stretched him in peace by the stream of the hill. Pale Autumn spreads o'er him the leaves of the forest, The fays of the wild chant the dirge of bis rest; And thou little stream still the sleeper deplorest, And moist'neth the heath-bell that weeps o'er his breast.