Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, COUSIN BELL; AN INCIDENT IN REAL LIFE, by JANET HAMILTON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

COUSIN BELL; AN INCIDENT IN REAL LIFE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: A dark fir-wud hings ower the burn
Last Line: The brithers' hearts for sister bell!
Alternate Author Name(s): Hamilton, Janet Thompson
Subject(s): Cousins; Death; Sickness; Dead, The; Illness


A DARK fir-wud hings ower the burn,
That wannerin' jinks roun' mony a turn,
Far doon oot through the lanely dell,
By whilk ance leev't my Cousin Bell.

A strappin', gracefu', blithesome queen,
Wi' coal-black hair an' glancin' een;
Nae muirlan' lass mair trig an' snell—
An' juist nineteen was Cousin Bell.

Her faither rentit a bit mailin',
It wadna pay—his health was failin';
He had nae dochter but hersel',
But brithers seven had Cousin Bell.

"Callants," quo' he, "nae mair we'll toil
For nocht; we'll seek anither soil;
Yon joiner lad, ye've a' heard tell,
Will wed an' keep at hame oor Bell."

For Canada they made them boune—
A house was ta'en in the neist toon,
Whar wi' her young guidman to dwell,
Weel ettle't she—oor Cousin Bell.

Ae Sabbath sittin' in the kirk,
Her heart grew caul', her een grew mirk;
Ye couldna guess what there befell
To blast the luve, the life o' Bell.

Purpose o' marriage was proclaimed
'Tween her betroth'd an' ane they named—
Into her faither's arms she fell,
"Oh, tak' me wi' ye!" murmur'd Bell.

On board they laid her in her berth,
For she was dune wi' a' on yirth;
They thocht the waves wad ring her knell,
An' hide the pale, sweet face o' Bell.

Her weary head she seldom shiftit;
Her mournfu' een she seldom liftit—
Oh! wae betide the traitor fell
That brak the heart o' Cousin Bell.

She kiss't them a'—her mither's cheek
She langest press't but didna speak;
But time an' change can ne'er expel
Their love an' grief for Sister Bell.

She leev't to see the promist lan'—
The icy waves that lash the stran'
Of great St. Lawrence rung her knell—
Rest, rest in peace, dear Cousin Bell.

On far Iowa's prairie lan',
Four yet survive o' that fair ban';
An' aften mournfu' memories swell
The brithers' hearts for Sister Bell!





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