Three families of the neighbouring gentry have their tombs here. The Bargany lairds lie within the church; the Killochan lairds on the north side; and the Penkill lairds at the end next the gate. Within the Penkill enclosure has recently been interred Mr W. B. Scott, Poet-Artist, with his profile above it.

But the tombstones most fondly cherished by the people are those erected to our Covenanting martyrs—one to John Semple and Thomas M'Clorgan, and another to John Stevenson and others, a handsome obelisk recently erected by the people of the district. These tombstones have been renovated this year by a few friends who respect the Cause for which the men suffered.

John Semple was shot at Eldington, now included within the farm of Maxwelton, while John Stevenson lived at Old Camregan, a short way off. Stevenson wrote a book entitled, "A Soul-strengthening and comforting Cordial for old and young Christians," in which he records concerning the days of his outlawry—"I lay a whole February in the open fields not far from Camregan, and one night was all covered with snow in the morning, while many nights I have lain with pleasure in the churchyard of Old Dailly, and made a grave my pillow." The Rev. Mr Kay, my old Schoolmaster, is likewise buried here, and many others whose memory has perished from the earth.

The church is of the usual parallelogram form, with a small vestry adjoining, within which lies a large blue stone, called the Charter Stone of Dailly, whose precise function is now forgotten, but it is supposed to have constituted the church a special sanctuary of some sort. This church was a favourite haunt of Peden's, and we can well fancy him pointing out David Mason, the informer, with the quaint reproof—"Here comes the Devil's Rattle-bag." Robert Pollok, author of the Course of Time, came here also, intending to write a book concerning John Stevenson, of whose character he expressed a high admiration.

The grey gloaming falls on Old Dailly Kirkyard,
And the trees that surround it are still,
And no sound is heard in Old Dailly Kirkyard
But the burn trinkling down from the hill.
And the old roofless kirk stands encompassed by graves,
Like a sentinel posted on guard
To watch over those who have lain down to sleep
'Neath the sod in Old Dailly Kirkyard.

A calm peaceful spot is Old Dailly Kirkyard,
Far removed from the din of the town,
And there's good company found in Old Dailly Kirkyard,
Of men who were, men of renown.
For Martyrs lie there who were true to their God,
And little their lives did regard,
And their bodies now hallow the grow, where they rest,
Sleeping sound in Old Dailly Kirkyard.

John Semple now sleeps in Old Dailly Kirkyard,
Secure from the rough trooper's blow;
And John Stevenson lies in Old Dailly Kirkyard,
Hid safe from the search of the foe.
And Thomas M'Clorgan, and others who've gone
To reap their promised reward;
Their bodies rest here till the Last Trumpet's sound
Shall be heard in Old Dailly Kirkyard.

There are gentle folks lie in Old Dailly Kirkyard,
Before whom the peasants did bow;
And learned men lie in Old Dailly Kirkyard,
Though their learning's of little worth now;
But the brave ones who died for our Freedom and Faith
Are the men whom this day we regard,
And we cherish their names as we stand round their graves,
In the hush of Old Dailly Kirkyard.