NOW. Yeddie heard that Christians came
Upon a certain day,
To think of Him, and His dear name,
Who wash’d their sins away.
So Yeddie ask’d to be allow’d
To do as Jesus said;
“Please, minister” (and low he bow’d),
“Let Yeddie break the bread.
“Please, minister, let Yeddie sup
Upon the comin’ day—
Let Yeddie drink of Jesus’ cup,
Who wash’d his sins away.”
The good man smiled at his request,
And thought it but a whim;
But Yeddie would not let him rest,
And so still question’d him:
“Ah, minister, if ye but kenn’d
How much I love the Lord,
Ye wouldna’ mind to let me spend
Some moments at His board.”
This touch’d his heart, and drew consent,
While banishing his fears—
He saw the lad; knew what he meant,
And saw the rising tears.
So with those Christians sat the boy,
And join’d their happy lays;
Ah! who can tell his depth of joy
While singing Jesus’ praise!
To him the blessed Lord’s commands
Were messages of Love;
His head fell gently on his hands—
His spirit rose above.
His head upon his knees did lay,
While tears most freely fell;
And Yeddie, in his simple way,
Was “Talkin’ wi’ Himsel!”
And in that posture did abide
As though his limbs were set—
While whispering low he often sigh’d.
“I dinna see Him yet.”
At length he raised his head once more,
While tears most freely ran,
With joy rehearsing o’er and o’er,
“I’ve seen yon lovely Man!”
No doubt, no fear, no shade of gloom
Did o’er his spirit roll;
The name of Jesus, as perfume,
Shed gladness through his soul.
The crowd that listen’d to his voice,
Seem’d struck with solemn awe,
And wonder’d why he should rejoice.
And what it was he saw.
But still in their astonish’d ears
The joyful sentence ran,
Which he had utter’d through his tears,
“I’ve seen yon lovely Man!”
His neighbours spoke, he did not heed,
But hasten’d o’er the moor,
Exclaiming, “These pair eyes ha’ seed
What they ne’er seed afore.”
“Ah! dinna, lads,” he once exclaim’d,
“Bid Yeddie speak to-day;”
His loving Lord his spirit claim’d,
And bore his thoughts away.
“Ah! lads, now dinna speak to me,”
(As after him they ran),
“Jist leave me to the company
O’ yonder lovely Man!”
And as he walk’d his lonely way,
In heaven he seem’d to dwell;
He thought of Jesus all the day,
And talk’d with Him as well.
By faith he saw the “Lamb of God,”
And heavenly joys began;
And thus his theme along the road—
“I’ve seen yon lovely Man!”
He near’d once more his native spot,
Where freely he could roam:
And saw again the lowly cot
Which Yeddie called his “home.”
He did not seem to care to speak,
But like a little child,
He merely stroked his granny’s cheek,
And, parting from her, smiled.
He noticed not his frugal fare;
He’d had a rich supply—
And Yeddie’s heart and longings were
With Jesus up on high.
Poor simple, yet thrice happy lad,
In Jesus he was blest;
Oh! would that every Christian had,
Like Yeddie, peace and rest!
Although his bed was only straw,
His garments coarsely spun;
His heart was fill’d with what he saw
In yonder lovely One.
In Him he had a richer dress
Than human hands could spin;
For Jesus was his righteousness—
Who wash’d his soul from sin.
Poor Yeddie in his humble loft,
Was happier than a king;
For gilded room and pillow soft,
Hide many a secret sting.
Oh! what to him were broad estates,
Or all the world might hold?—
His eyes were on the pearly gates,
And on the streets of gold;
Yea, more, they rose to that high throne,
Where light and glory dwell,
Where lasting joy is only known—
For they were on “Himsel’!”
Nought of the world was there to draw
The thirsting heart aside,
His longing eyes the Saviour saw,
And closed to all beside.
Oh! lovely sight whereon to gaze—
The all absorbing One,
Who ruled his heart—who won his praise—
Was God’s beloved Son.
“Aye, Lord,” said he, “it’s jist pair me
That wanted Thee afore;
And now we will together be,
And bide, to part no more.
“Oo, aye, this is a bonnie loft,
A’ goold and precious stones”—
And here his voice seem’d growing soft.
For softer were its tones.
“Yon grand old casti’s not my choice,
For here I’d rather stay”—
Here happy, happy Yeddie’s voice
In silence died away.
Seoba
by John Morrison — the Harris Bard
25
Ged tha farmad do naimhdean
‘G iarraid bann do cho-cheangail
Ris an rioghachd a sgaolileadh
Tha na ‘dhaors
Tha na ‘dhaors dhoibh s na’eallach,
Eagal cuibhreach cuing Chriosda
Air am miann bhi cur smachd
Ge’ do bhrist iad an aonachd
Riut s a maoin uat a spannadh
Dh’fheuch an tarladh dhut claonadh
‘S taobh an t-saoghail a ghabhail;
S mor gur fearr dhuit bhi cuidhteas
Cobhoinn riu le d’sgaradh,
S Criosd a leantuin sna teinnaicht,
S fianuis dhileas ‘tho ‘airt dhasan
Mar t’fhear graidh s do chultaic.
26
Gabh misneach s na fannaich
Cha’n misneach s na fannaich
Cha’n am dhuit to’airt thairis
Tha gach ni aig do cheannard
Fo ‘cheannsail air talamh
S gheobh thu fuasgladh o’ d’theanntachd
Na ‘am-san s fan ris;
Na gabh lasan no campar
Ris an dream tha ga d’theannadh
Ciod an t-ioghnadh bhiodh ann duit
Ged robh ‘n t-am ruit a tarruing,
Anns am fograr o’n champ thu
Mach feadh bheanntaibh us ghleannaibh,
Tho’airt nan caorach ‘bha caillte
‘Steach le d’laimh chum na mainnir
‘Giulan masl’us cuing Chriosda
‘Sonair fhiachail dhuit cin.
27
Na biodh geilt s na biodh sgath ort
Bi laidir s na fannuich
Tha t’fhear-posd thug a ghradh dhut
‘Cur aird air a ghealladh
Ann san fhreadal seo ‘n trath-sa
Riut ag radhtainn le iochd:
Leudaich ionad do phailliu
Ann san fhasach gu farsuing
S brat comhdaich do bhuthan
S do chuird leig am faidead
Agus daignich do chuaillean
Ga’m bualadh gu daingean
Tog iolach le luath-ghair
Cha bhuannaich thu aimrid,
Oir a mach air gach taobh dhiot
Craobh sgaoididh do shlioichd.
28
N a th’air t’iomcharan ‘n trath seo
Ga d’fhagail gun fhoistinn,
A bhi trom le deagh al
Sin ga d’fhasgadah le osnaich,
S cha lughdaich do theanntachd
Do chlann gus an tig:
Tha toirrcheas gu brach
Do ghnath ‘dol air thoiseach
Do an fhuinneachd naduir
‘Bhios saraicht neo-shocrach,
Us pianntaibh ro dheuchainneach
Deurach nio-choitchionn,
Us ioghnaidhibh geura
S cruaidh eiginn bhios goirt dhuit
Mu’m brist thu le eibhneas
Ri cinnteachd do shlioichd.
29
Ach t’amhghair cha chuimhnich
Tha ‘chaoidh as a dheigh sin
Le miad do thoilinntinn
Us t’aoibhneas na d’cheile
A dh’ardaich cho mor thu
Mar og-mhaoi s bean-uchd;
‘N uair chi thu do chlann
Mar na planntaibh do’n fhion-chrann
Ag ol chum an solais
N’ a’s leoir a chasg iotaidd
Do bhainne ‘s glan sogh
‘Chuir t’fhear posda ‘n ad chiochan,
S an siolachadh glormhor
Ni t’oigriddh fas lionmhor
‘Cur thairis le gairdeachas
Lan bithidh do chup.
30
Do chairdean ro chaomhail
Tha’n aonach riut ceangailt
S tha’n comhcheangal gaol
Anns san t-saoghal riut’cheana,
Mar bhraithrean an Criosda
Gach aon diubh thig leat:
Thig iad an comh-bhionn riut
Le aoibhneas gu geanail
A’ ghabhail comh-roinn dheth
Do chuig air an amhaich
‘Chraobh-sgaoileadh a Bhiobuill
‘S gach tir tha gun aithn air,
‘Chur theachdairean dileas
‘Bhios saoithreach’na’n anam,
A phlanndadh na firinn
S gach tir tha fad as.
31
‘N uair sgaoileas do gheughaibh
O d’fhreumh air an doigh seo
S gach sguab bidh na ‘leusan
‘mar eibhleagan beotha,
S bidh an gaisgeach ro mhor
Us a dhorlach na ‘ghlaic.
Bidh an gaisgeach ro mhor
S mic na h-oige na laimhsan
Mar shaighdean geur beo
Leagas fodhpa na naimhdean,
Ga’n lotadh s ga’n leonadh
Gur mor s iad fo ‘n ceannsal
Ag eigneach fo bhron
Airson trocair o’n aingeachd
Us Ard-Righ na gloire
‘To ‘airt treoir dhoibh us neart.
32
Bidh ‘m focal gu druiteach
A’ dusgadh gach coguis,
Ga’n reubadh s ga ‘n ciurradh
S a’rusgadh an lochdan
Le ‘n cridheachan bruite
Air an gluinibh ‘s air chrith;
Thig cinnich us sloigh
S righre mora le cheile
Gu d’sholus ro oirdhearce
Us gloir do ghrian eirigh,
S thig anail nan gras
O cheithir airde nen speuran
A’dhusgadh chruaidh chnamhan
S gu tathadh ri cheile,
‘Chrith-ghluasad nan Iudahach
G’a ionnsuidh na’n ruith.
33
Do naimhdean bha dur
Gu mirunach ga d’tholladh
Thig a’sleucdadh fo mhuiiseig
Le’n umhlachd fo d’bhonnaibh
Fo aithreachas druiteach
S an suilean lan uisg:
S’n uair chi am mor-shluagh
Righ nam buadh a bhi mar riut
S do naimhdean na’n truaghain
Fo’n ruaig air an teannadh
Bidh’n cridhe air a luasgadh
Lan uamhais na’n anam
Ag iadhadh m’an cuairt dut
Gu luath airson beannachd
A ghabhail sar ghreim dhiot
Le’n laimh air do sgiort.
34
Thig armáilt gun aireamh
An aird fo do bhrataich,
Ni dhuiseas an Dragon
Us ras air a ‘gleachd riut
Mar leomhan ro gharg
Ga do shealg le’dhroch bhuiod;
Thig faidhean breige
S am fiadh bheisd riut a charreid
S an t-Anacriosd oillteil
Le’n treun fheachd s le ‘n lannaibh,
Ach tilgear le d’ghairdean
Gur lar iad’s ri talamh
Le buille ro threun
S iad cha’n eirich le cabhaig,
Tre chumhachd do cheannard
Le d’laimh-s’ theid an sgrios.
35
Bidh Cuidbheasaich thalmhaidh
Na’m bailbh gun bheul fosgailt
Us Foirmealaich mharbhant’
Mar shearg chrainn air grodadh;
S bidh nair us boil’ eanchainn
Air cealgairibh dubh:
S gach aon a lean iomhaigh
An fhiadh bheathaich mhallaicht
Ghabh a chomgarr air ‘ aodiunn
No’n aon aite b’fholaicht,
S a ghradhaich an saoghal
S a mhaoin tha neo-mhairionn,
Bidh amhladh gu brach orr,
Us cradh riu a dealaich
Mar lean iad an namhaid
Gus bas ga ghrad chur.
36
Gur truagh bhios san lo sin
Gach seors’ ruit a dh’eirich
S nach deaclaidh na d’choir
Gus do chomhnadh na d’eigin
Ach thus’ a bhlais-bheumaich
‘S a diult dhut gach iochd
S do nimhdean ro fheolmhor
‘Chuir bron ort le’ns gallais
Cuiridh ‘n t-Ard-Righ do ghloir ort
Bheir leonadh dha’n anam;
O d’laimh-sa gu’n ol iad
Cupan dolais d’an aindeoin,
Chum am naslaidh a an doruinn
Ni’s mo riu nach dealaich,
Gu’n tuit iad leat comhladh
Us beo iad nach tig.
37
Bidh gairdeachas lan ann
San la sin aig t’anam,
Le glaodh na buaidh-laraich
Gu h-ard anns gach teangaidh,
‘To ‘airt cliu do’n an Ard-Righ
‘G radh: Babilon thuit:
‘To’airt cliu do’n Ti sin
Na ‘libhrigeadh beannuicht
Thug buaidh air an t-sriopach
S a dhiol oirr a h-an-iochd;
Scco-fhreagraidh dha cheile
Na Neamhan s an talamh
Le aoibhneas nan ainglean
S le seinn luchd na caithreim,
S b’n ceol ‘bhi ga’n cluinnntinn
Oir ‘s binn bhios an guth.