Pictures In Verse Poetry Contest entry 2017
Bill West recently reminded us of his annual Genealogy Poetry Challenge. I decided that this poem honors our nation’s early immigrant’s culture from whence they came and their descendants. It gives a sense of where we came from.
I believe the sentiment expressed in this poem could be applied to immigrants to our nation today. Life is uncertain, filled with the unknown. It’s how we deal with Life that determines who we are.
Today I honor my 8th great-grandfather, John MacBean/Bean.
While researching my John MacBean/Bean lineage, for an Ancestry DNA hint, I came across this poem written by Mrs. Alice Bean Lodge of Gilmanton, New Hampshire (31 Aug 1899); read by Mrs. E. W. Johnson of East Wilton, Maine, for the Fourth Annual Reunion of John Bean (1660) Association at Portland, Maine 31 Aug 1899.
Picture In Verse
Good morrow, friends and kinsmen,
I greet you one and all,
Who’ve seen the fiery Cross go forth
And heard the bugle call.
Ours be a peaceful meeting,
We need no cross or flame,
No plaid or Scottish bonnet
To tell from whence we came.
With pride of ancient ancestry
And love of Highland lore,
Our hearts may be as leal and true
As those who lived of yore.
Warriors were they, and artizans,
Our coat of arms doth show
An arm and hand, with dagger raised
To strike an avenging blow.
The motto of ye olden time
Sounds strange to us to-day,
But in the seventh century,
When Douglas Bayne held sway,
They challenged every man they met,
They made him stand and show
What might his name and station be
And whether friend or foe.
“Touch not the cat without a glove,”
Or you may rue the day
You made him lift the velvet paw,
Or stroked him the wrong way.
Clan Chattan’s foes may well beware,
Her sons are strong and fleet,
And a mountain wildcat might not be
A pleasant thing to meet.
Let us go back to those old days
And see the life they led,
Their home a mountain cavern,
Their dress, the Highland plaid;
Their bed of flinty rock was strewn
With heather and wild fern,
And they drank the sparkling water
From out of the nearest burn.
With trusty bow and arrow
They chased they flying roe,
And watched the mountain passes
To guard against the foe.
While from the castle on the cliff
The watchman, old and grey,
Gave warning to the warder
To keep the foe away.
Within the castle all looked bright,
The knights were brave and true,
The ladies taught their maids
To spin, tow weave and sew.
The laird was father of his clan,
The lady, sweet and fair,
Made all the poor and stricken ones
Their own especial care.
Their peaceful days were brimming o’er
With happiness, I ween,
When all the lads and lassies met
To dance upon the green.
With hearts as light as thistle-down,
With laughter, song and jest,
Each Lassie laced her bodice blue,
Each laddie donned his best;
The lairds looked on approvingly,
My lady with a smile,
The older folks sat round in groups
To chat and rest awhile.
And e’en the poor were not forgot,
Who through the twilight stole,
With bag in hand from door to door
To gather up the dole.
What visions danced before their eyes
As they white sails unfurled,
To seek for home and fortune
In a strange, far off new world.
What anxious days were those at sea,
When parted from the land,
They steered their bark to westward
Till they reached a rocky strand.
Tho’ few indeed their numbers were,
Their hearts were stout and bold;
The dangers met, the toils they shared
Have oftentimes been told.
The German sighs for Fatherland,
The Switzer mourns his mountains
With many a silent tear;
And tho’ Columbia beckons
And the future may beguile,
The bells of Shandon still sound sweet
To the sons of Erin’s Isle.
We talk of Merry England,
The vine-clad hills of France,
Of Spain and her Alhambra,
Of Moorish song and dance;
Italia’s charms and chanted oft
By light of the silver moon,
And we sing of bonny Scotland,
“Ye banks and braes of Doon.”
And why from lands so fair and fine
Is it so many come?
In the fair land—America__
A man can own his home;
Freedom of thought and action,
A chance to see and know,
The land is board, and fair, and free
Wherever he may go.
Her flag is known in every port,
Her ships sail every sea,
She stretches out her strong right arm
To help the oppressed go free.
The morning sun shines brightly
When he leaves his ocean bed
Upon a busy commerce
And crowded marts of trade—
Upon a restless people
Who hurry to and fro,
As here and there with eager steps
Throughout the land they go.
‘Tis true the world is very wide,
And some are sure to find
In leaving home that they have left
Their “Fortunate Isles” behind.
And tho’ like Esmeralda,
We “sing in every bower,”
Or like the bee who all day long
Sips honey from each flower,
When twilight closes round us
Wherever we may be,
We hear our Mother singing
Aneath the “Rowen tree;”
And with the Germans “Wanderer,”
Our hearts cry out, “Where art thou.
O my beloved home>’
And you whose lives are shadowed
By grief, or pain, or loss,
From whom the sky is darkened,
And gold is naught but dross,
Worn out with tears and watching,
Caught by the undertow
And carried outward by the tide
Wherever it may go;
Helpless to bear life’s burdens,
Yet hoping while you call,
That haven may prove a refuge
And a resting place for all.
Look up for strength and courage,
Take note of little things,
You may see angels’ faces
And hear the sound of wings.
Old Allan Bayne, that harp of thine
Has mute remained for many a year,
The chords that thrilled the soul are hushed,
The hand that touched them is not here.
How often in the olden days
Unseen it welcomed many a guest;
It cheered his sorrows, soothed his fears,
And gently lulled to rest.
But when the clansmen filled the hall
To talk of deed by field and foray,
How loud and clear the notes that rang,
While sand the bard of fame and glory.
And when the exile wandered forth
To shadowy cave and forest near,
The ancient harper followed on
To charm and make his life less drear.
O, ancient harper, may my strain
Allure, and comfort as thine own;
Let joybells ring, and Hope’s bright ray
Illume a future all unknown,
For life may yet hold much of good,
Tho’ often mixed with grief and care,
And flowers still loom and birds yet sing
As in old Scotland vales so fair.
Written by Mrs. Alice Bean Lodge
Source:
- Proceedings of the John Bean (1660) https://archive.org/stream/proceedingsofjoh1899john#page/101/mode/1up
- Bill West 9th Annual Great Genealogy Poetry Challenge https://westinnewengland.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-ninth-annual-great-genealogy-poetry.html
Citation:
- John Bean Association Proceedings of the John Bean (1660) Association, at its annual reunion, accessed 7 September 2017, from https://archive.org/details/proceedingsofjoh1899john; publisher S I-The Association, 1899, collection Allen County Americana digitalized, Allen County Public Library Genealogy Center, published 1899, call number 31833012005747, image pg100-104
- West, Bill (2017) West In New England 30 Aug 2017 Bill West 9th Annual Great Genealogy Poetry Challenge, accessed 7 September 2017 https://westinnewengland.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-ninth-annual-great-genealogy-poetry.html
My lineage:
John MacBean/Bean 1634-1718 & Margaret Edwards 1640-1714
James Bean 1672-1753 & Sarah Bradley 1673-1738
Samuel Bean 1710-1786 &Mary Buzzell 1714-1812
Judith Bean 1732-1817 &Moses Quimby 1713-1826
Hannah Quimby 1759-1831 & Philip Nelson 1756-1841
William Nelson 1795-1869 & Patty Teel 1795-1891
Benjamin P. Nelson 1824-1862 & Elinor M. Babb 1830-1906
William F. Nelson 1855-1932 & Clara J. Chase 1875-1955, my great-grandparents
Lillian M. Nelson 1895-1934 & Nathan A. Stearns 1887-1851, my grandparents
Nelson W. Stearns 1930-1988 & Shirley B. Pease 1935-2001, my parents
Judith Bean 1732-1817 &Moses Quimby 1713-1826 are founding families of Sutton, Merrimack, New Hampshire the home of my heart.
Source:
- Proceedings of the John Bean (1660) https://archive.org/stream/proceedingsofjoh1899john#page/101/mode/1up
- Bill West 9th Annual Great Genealogy Poetry Challenge https://westinnewengland.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-ninth-annual-great-genealogy-poetry.html
Citation:
- John Bean Association Proceedings of the John Bean (1660) Association, at its annual reunion, accessed 7 September 2017, from https://archive.org/details/proceedingsofjoh1899john; publisher S I-The Association, 1899, collection Allen County Americana digitalized, Allen County Public Library Genealogy Center, published 1899, call number 31833012005747, image pg100-104
- West, Bill (2017) West In New England 30 Aug 2017 Bill West 9th Annual Great Genealogy Poetry Challenge, accessed 7 September 2017 https://westinnewengland.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-ninth-annual-great-genealogy-poetry.html
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