Oor First Wee Graves Poem by Alexander Anderson

They were a' roun' aboot us, their hearts licht wi' glee,
An' the pride an' the talk o' their faither an' me;
We had nae broken link when we lookit aroun',
To sen' through oor hearts sorrow's canker an' stoun'.
The shadow afore hadna come on the hearth
To dull wi' its gloom their bit prattle an' mirth,
An' ilka bit joy in the heart o' ilk wean
Sent the same happy pride an' sweet thrill through oor ain.


But it wasna to last; for this strange life o' oors
Is made up o' blinks o' dull sunshine an' shooers;
Sae the shadow at last cam' an' fell on the een
O' Jenny, my ain sweet wee dawtie an' queen.
Saft, saft did it fa', like a clud on the hill,
An' wee paidlin' feet an' a sweet voice grew still,
While a gap on the hearth as I turn'd roun' my e'e,
Dumbly spoke o' the sweet link noo broken to me.


There was weicht at my heart I could ne'er get abune,
When I saw a' the rest when the forenicht set in
Gather roun' wi' their stules, to think ae weel ken'd face
Couldna come to my side an' tak' up its auld place;
An', oh! when I heard them speak lown their bit say,
I thocht on a voice that was noo far away;
But I keepit the tears back for sake o' the lave,
An' the kirkyaird doon-by had oor first wee reid grave.


But waes me, the shadow cam' back wi' its wing,
An' wee Jeanie sank doon like a leaf struck in spring,
Sair, sair was my wark nicht an' day wi' the wean,
Yet what will a mither no dae for her ain?
But oor wark was in vain, for the saft breathin' nicht
Saw the angel that faulded our bairn frae oor sicht:
Sae anither wee grave in the kirkyaird was made,
An' in't oor sweet bud by the ither was laid.


'Twas oor first close acquaintance wi' ocht o' the kin';
An' deeply it sunk baith on heart an' on min':
It micht be that something no far frae despair
Fell doon on oor hearts an' lay unco cauld there.
For when grief comes it aye brings the shadows that hide
A' the gude we micht see if we flung them aside;
But a wee grave, ye ken, when it haps what we lo'e,
Tak's mithers an unco lang time to see through.


Sae I grew unco wae, at odd times, wi' the thocht,
That keepit me back frae the gude that I socht;
But the rest o' my bairns were aboot me to cheer,
An' I lichten'd mysel' as things lookit mair clear;
While a voice, heard to nane but mysel', in my breist,
Said in saft, soothin' whispers, when sorrow had ceased,
'Ye ne'er wad hae ken'd what sair hearts can contain
If the finger of God hadna lain on your ain.'


But ae nicht a dream cam', an' sweet, sweet to me
Was its truth that I grew maist as licht as could be.
I thocht a white angel frae heaven cam' doon,
An' stood on the hearth wi' lang wings faulded roun',
An', oh! but the smile on his lips was fu' sweet,
As he boo'd, an' laid twa gowden links at his feet.
Then I thocht tae mysel', for the meanin' was plain,
God has sent him doon here wi' a link for ilk wean.


Then he flew to the kirkyaird, still leavin' ahin'
The en' o' the links he had brocht frae abune.
An' he stood on the graves o' the twa bairns o' mine,
Lookin' up to his hame he had left but short syne.
But juist for a moment, then saftly an' licht
He rase on braid wings an' soar'd oot o' my sicht;
But aye, frae the hearth to the kirkyaird doon-by,
The links streekit oot an' gaed up to the sky.


There was bliss in my heart when I wauken'd, an' faun'
That the nicht roun' aboot had been stirr'd by God's han',
An' I ken'd He had sent, frae His shadowless day,
That Angel to teach me His ain wondrous way.
For, when sorrow blin's up a' this life to our view,
He aye leaves a place for His han' to come through;
Sae oor wee graves, we ken, are gowd links nocht can dim
Slippit into the chain that leads upward to Him.