James McBey (1883-1959)
His ma wis unmerriet, a blacksmith’s young dother
Newburgh, unwinted, wis far he wis born
He’d tae caa his ma Annie. Ignored bi his faither
In puirtith an wint, a wee laddie, forelorn
His Granny Gillespie wis couthie an carin
The auld woman lued him, sae lang tenderly
Aged fowerteen the family meeved intae the city
Jeems wis a bank clerk, breidwinner fur three
His mither grew blin…still uncarinas iver
Ae nicht he cam hame tae his cauldrife address
Annie hid hinged herself, Jeemes cuther doon
A bobby made siccar twis kept frae the press
Frae the Aiberdeen librar he wyled oot a buikie
On etchin- syne listed at Grays Schule o Art
In the evenins, bi daytime, aye tcyauvin at bankin
For Granny Gillespie, his rock frae the start
His life wis his etchins.. self -larned as an artist
Exhibitin far he could, traivellin tae France
In his free time he prentit bi usin a mangle
He grew better kent…twis the stuff o romaunce
Puir eesicht meant he cudna list as a sodjer
He wis a war artist (lieutenant commission)
Frae Palestine, Gaza, Sinai an Damascus
Wi the camel corp on reconnaissance mission
He peintit a portraito Sir Harry Lauder
An Lawrence o Arabie, taen frae the flesh
He tuik as a wife an American lassie
They whyles bedd in Tangier an whyles Marrakesh
His wirk is in London, in Boston an Aiberdeen
Washington, Huntington Librar as weel
Fur a faitherless loon fa wis born intae poverty
Hard wis the sowin, bit fruitful the dreel
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