Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HERD'S WIFE, by JOHN VEITCH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE HERD'S WIFE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: In a lone herd's house, far up I' the hope
Last Line: He breath'd, and bless'd her name!
Subject(s): Love; Marriage; Weddings; Husbands; Wives


IN a lone herd's house, far up i' the Hope,
By the hill wi' the winter cairn,
She paced the floor i' the peat-fire glow,
In her airms she clasp'd her bairn!

Out in the night the snow storm's might
Tore wild around the door;
"Oh! waes me for my ain guidman
Up on that weary moor!

"I canna hide that gruesome sough,
That swirl o' blindin' drift;
There's no a star in a' the sky,
Nor a glint o' moon i' the lift!

"Has the crook o' my lot then cam' sae soon
On oor gleesome wedding day?
Wi' the ae bloom o' the heather braes
Is my blessing sped away?

"Oh, bonnie a' through was oor year,
Frae Spring to Lammas-tide;
There was joy in the ee'-blinks o' morn,
Was I wrang in wishin' 'twad bide?

"But little thocht I that the hay
Deep owre the haugh and the lea --
(Our first crop he sae blythely maw'd)
Was the last we thegither wad see!

"Have I lov'd him owre muckle, O, Lord,
Thinkin' mair o' his smile than thine?
Oh, on earth I had nane but himsel --
To be my sweet bairnies and mine!"

She paced up and down, the bairn in her grip,
That knew not her sad unrest;
And about it her airms she clasp'd,
Press'd it, how close, to her breast!

High on the blast rose a piteous whine,
She thrill'd as 'tween hope and fear,
'Twas the pleading wail of faithful "Help,"
But alone, -- no master there!

No warm hearth seeks the dog to-night, --
His face is set to the storm, --
He's come from where his master lies, --
He'll guide to the snow-numb'd form!

One tender look has the wife for "Help,"
A tear-eyed glance for her child,
Out will she 'mid the fearsome night,
For him wha lies on the wild.

With milk in vial, her sole resource, --
Laid in the warmth of her breast, --
She and "Help" 'gainst the 'wildering snow,
To her God she leaves the rest!

Fearless she faced the gruesome sough,
And swirl of blindin' drift,
There wasna a star in a' the sky,
Nor a glint o' moon in the lift!

Bare-headed slept he 'neath the mound,
Where the wreath was owre him laid,
There in the folds of the winding snow,
"Help" found him wrapt in his plaid!

Oh! how she clasp'd him there, and pour'd
Life warmth through his chilled frame!
Heaven tenderly look'd on her wifely love --
He breath'd, and bless'd her name!





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