Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GRANNIE MIRK: A HAMILTON GRANNIE, by JANET HAMILTON


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GRANNIE MIRK: A HAMILTON GRANNIE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: As she lay on her bed, frail, dowie, an' dune
Last Line: Bless a' his sair labours, protect an' provide!
Alternate Author Name(s): Hamilton, Janet Thompson
Subject(s): Death; Grandparents; Mothers & Sons; Dead, The; Grandmothers; Grandfathers; Great Grandfathers; Great Grandmothers


As she lay on her bed, frail, dowie, an' dune,
The neebors a' thocht that her en' wad be sune;
That mornin' a gent had cum in frae the toun
To speir for her weelfare, an' sat himsel' doun.

"Hoo's a' wi' ye, grannie? an' whan did ye hear
Frae Davie, yer son? it's o' him I wad speir,
Wha has travell'd sae far through forest an' flood,
Wi' his life in his haun, for the hale warl's gude.

"Thou art blest amang mithers; nae leddy or queen
Has gi'en sic a son to the kintra, I ween;
He's an honour to Scotlan', an' lang afterhen
He's laid in the mools, he'll be blest amang men."

Auld grannie lay still, sae contentit to hear
The praise o' her son sae duteous an' dear;
She leuk'd in his face, and said—" Bide ye a wee,
I've something o' Davie's will please ye to see."

"Gae, Jeanie, my dochter," then grannie began,
"Bring Davie's hauf-croon, it's the first that he wan;
A studgel bit callan he brocht it to me—
'That's the erles o' mair, my mither,' quo' he.

"An' mony lang years after he gi'ed me this,
My Davie cam' back his auld mither to bless,
Frae far-awa' lan's, whaur the black bodies bide,
An' fo'k gi'ed him welcome wi' pleasure an' pride.

"They honour'd an' prais'd him, an' gowpens o' gowd
They gather'd for him, an' right freely bestow'd;
Then swith to his ain mither's dwallin' he's gaun
Wi' the twa-thousan' cheque they laid in his haun.

"He stood at my knee, an' he there laid it doon—
'Oh, dinna ye min' o' yer Davie's hauf-croon!
The first that he wrocht for? noo, see what is there;
I tauld ye that it was the erles o' mair.'

"Noo, tak' the bit siller intil yer ain haun,
It's precious to me, ye may weel unnerstaun;
It's no a' the siller in kintra an' toun
Wad tempt me to pairt wi' my Davie's hauf-croon."

Noo grannie sleeps soun' in the caul' bed o' death;
On dear Davie's bosom she drew her last breath.
Again he's on travel; may God be his guide;
Bless a' his sair labours, protect an' provide!





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