trinkie
06-Jul-07, 07:41
ROBERT DICK, GEOLOGIST
By J.B. c. 1960
There are deeds of fame recorded
In the annals of our land,
There are heroes with us always
Walking round on every hand.
Names immortal grace our temples
Names that for aye be green
Yet how many a wonderous blossom
Oft is "born to blush unseen!"
Such was he who long hath rested
By the Thurso’s winding stream
Robert Dick, the humble baker
One who realised his dream,
One to whom the Book of Nature
Lay unfolded all the while,
Though to read it, oft he travelled
Over many a weary mile!
One to whom the place was given
For to teach his fellow men
All the beauteous things of Nature
For he wore her diadem.
One to whom the earth unfolded
Secrets kept since primal morn
But whose brow, the laurel garland
Of success, did not adorn!
Often hungry, tired and weary,
Life’s hard, thorn-strewn path he trod;
Often too, the way was dreary,
But his faith was strong in God.
Life’s vicissitudes were many,
Sneers, contempt, his daily lot,
But his name and fame will linger,
When more famed onces are forgot.
Newton’s name has been exalted,
Miller’s name is blazoned high,
On the World’s great Roll of Science,
From the years long since gone by.
But the humble Thurso baker
Has enshrined his name in stone
On the rugged rocks of Dunnet,
With a glory all his own.
And the mist-clad braes of Morven,
Living witness too, can bear
To that poor but honest baker,
Oft-times fronted by Despair,
Oft-times wearied, oft-times saddened,
By reverses, great and small,
Yet that spirit, by it’s virtue
Rose triumphant over all !
And the legacy bequeathed us
By that genius sublime,
Is a deeper wider knowledge,
Of the dim, red dawn of Time,
And ‘tis ours, his torch to carry
Through the ages yet to be,
Till the final secret’s wrested
From the rocks that bound the sea !
By J.B. c. 1960
There are deeds of fame recorded
In the annals of our land,
There are heroes with us always
Walking round on every hand.
Names immortal grace our temples
Names that for aye be green
Yet how many a wonderous blossom
Oft is "born to blush unseen!"
Such was he who long hath rested
By the Thurso’s winding stream
Robert Dick, the humble baker
One who realised his dream,
One to whom the Book of Nature
Lay unfolded all the while,
Though to read it, oft he travelled
Over many a weary mile!
One to whom the place was given
For to teach his fellow men
All the beauteous things of Nature
For he wore her diadem.
One to whom the earth unfolded
Secrets kept since primal morn
But whose brow, the laurel garland
Of success, did not adorn!
Often hungry, tired and weary,
Life’s hard, thorn-strewn path he trod;
Often too, the way was dreary,
But his faith was strong in God.
Life’s vicissitudes were many,
Sneers, contempt, his daily lot,
But his name and fame will linger,
When more famed onces are forgot.
Newton’s name has been exalted,
Miller’s name is blazoned high,
On the World’s great Roll of Science,
From the years long since gone by.
But the humble Thurso baker
Has enshrined his name in stone
On the rugged rocks of Dunnet,
With a glory all his own.
And the mist-clad braes of Morven,
Living witness too, can bear
To that poor but honest baker,
Oft-times fronted by Despair,
Oft-times wearied, oft-times saddened,
By reverses, great and small,
Yet that spirit, by it’s virtue
Rose triumphant over all !
And the legacy bequeathed us
By that genius sublime,
Is a deeper wider knowledge,
Of the dim, red dawn of Time,
And ‘tis ours, his torch to carry
Through the ages yet to be,
Till the final secret’s wrested
From the rocks that bound the sea !