That made their rant for the Covenant through mony a weary day.
For twal' years lang the caverns rang wi' preaching, prayer, and
Ye'd think the winds were soughing wild, when a' the winds were
There wad they preach, each Saint to each, and glower as the
And Peden wared his malison on a bonny leaguer lass,
As she stood and daffed, while the warders laughed, and wha sae
But a wind o' ill worked his warlock will, and flang her out to
Then wha sae bright as the Saints that night, and an angel came,
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