The Rock Of The Betrayed

by Caroline Sheridon Norton

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For he left in Scotland none who cared
If e'er he should return,
In castle hall, or cottage low,
By river or by burn.

Only upon the heather brae
His quivering lip he pressed;
And clasped the senseless birchen tree,
And strained it to his breast;

Because the human heart is full
Of love that must be given,
However checked, estranged, and chilled,
To something under Heaven.

And these things had been friends to him
Thro' a life of lonely hours -
The blue lake, and the waving birch,
And the low broom's scented flowers.

4

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