A verse by an Ayrshire Elder sent to Rev  Mr
Steele of Dalry, and read at a bi centenary. Johnson`s Treasury

Blow softly, ye breezes,
by mountain and moor,
O`er the graves of the Covenant men,
By the muirland and flood that were red with their blood,
Can ye waft the old watchwords again ?

“For Scotland and
Christ”  the breezes of old

O`er the wilds of the
Westland bore,

From the Lugar and Nith
to the Lothian Frith,
And the German Ocean`s shore.

And where`er they blew,
a prayer  was breathed

And a holy psalm was

And hands were clasped 
and the banner grasped

When the Covenant
watchword rang.

O for the brave true
hearts of old,
That bled when the banner perished !

O for the Faith that was
strong in death –

The Faith that our
fathers cherished !

The banner might fall,
but the spirit lived,
And liveth for evermore;
And Scotland claims  as her noblest names,

The Covenant Men of