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To celebrate the first day of May, we present a poem from Irish-American Reformed / United Presbyterian minister Boyd McCullough’s autobiography The Experience of Seventy Years (1895). The book is not yet on Log College Press, but it is a fascinating read and filled with his poetic verse. The following seems to be a tribute perhaps to the fragrant Trailing Arbutus (Epigaea repens), a flower of delicate beauty.

To a Wild Flower

Mrs. Margaret Cameron, of Bloomington Ferry, received anonymously a wild flower of rare beauty. She suspected that it came from her sister in Wisconsin. She pressed it and put it in her album and she desired a few verses to put in with it.

Little flower of beauty rare,
From Wisconsin’s woods you came,
With perfume you graced the air.
Trailing Love’s your pretty name.
In the merry month of May
To my door your way you found,
When the singing birds are gay,
’Mong the trees with blossoms crowned.
Not a word had you to say;
Not a message have you brought;
Yet a sister far away
Came at once into my thought.
Wildwoods are your chosen spot,
In the garden bed you die;
Thus true love, which glads the cot,
From the lordly dome will fly.
When to dust you shall depart,
As from dust your sprung.
Your remembrance in my heart,
Like a picture shall be hung.
Wedded bliss was once my share,
Soon my sky was overcast.
Still my heart retains with care,
Memories of the happy past.
Heaven has lent this precious boon
To the patient, trusting mind;
Earthly glories, fading soon,
Leave a sweet perfumer behind.

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Boyd McCullough (1825-1899) was an Irish-American minister who served in the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America (RPCNA) and the United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA). He traveled extensively, serving pastorates in Ohio, Pennsylvania, Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin; and he spent time with the Covenanters in England, Ireland and Scotland. He was a poet as well, publishing in 1882, The Shamrock; or, Erin Set Free: A Poem on the Conversion of the Irish From Paganism (not yet available on Log College Press). Appended to this remarkable epic poem are other prose and poetic compositions. They speak of not only his native Ireland, but also experiences from places such as Kansas and Canada, as well as on the sea.

The following poem is selected for today’s consideration because it represents the appreciation he had, as one who traveled extensively, for the virtues of family, home, hospitality and hearth. One can imagine Rev. McCullough traveling through the prairie on his horse and stopping at a home for some hospitality along the way.

The Cheerful Cottage

While wandering through the lonely West,
Till man and beast were weary,
I found a soothing spot of rest,
Which female hands made cheery.
A fasting ride of twenty miles
Made every dish a dainty;
And then where cordial welcome smiles
A crust can serve for plenty.
Her table-cloth might snow surpass,
The bread was almost whiter,
The butter smelled of fragrant grass,
No gold was ever brighter.
Her notes in softest accents fell,
The ear with rapture filling,
As ancient songs, with skillful swell,
Upon her tongue were trilling.
The rustic bed allured to sleep,
Dispersing care and cumber,
Till dreams of friends beyond the deep
Made paradise of slumber.
Next morn when passing o’er the plain,
Or threading through the valley,
Or watching geese, a noisy train,
From out the marshes sally,
I mused upon that pleasant spot
That graced the western prairies,
And many a tale to mind it brought
Of cave-adorning fairies.
Let magic halls the fancy stir
With all the fire of Byron;
A simple housewife I prefer
To mermaid, fay or siren.

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