The above poem was found amongst some old Bishop family papers in the 1980s. It was badly damaged by silverfish, and did not carry a signature, only a date- June 12, 1869. It did not require great investigative skills, however, to determine that Bertha Hughan had followed in her literary brothers' footsteps, and penned a heartfelt poem describing a mother's anquish at the possibility of losing her beloved son to sickness.
At the end of the previous year, toddler Roland had been very ill. Bertha's nephew Gilbert McCallum, from his Uncle Allan's schooner in Fremantle, wrote to his younger sister Ivy on November 23, 1868.(Ivy, of course, was living with the Bishop family at Mount Rowan in Ballarat)Part of the letter read: " I am very sorry that you and Roland have been so ill and I trust you both will get strong again. I need not say that I hope Roland is a good boy for I never knew him to be otherwise."
The first two verses are partially missing due to damage, but the rest reads as follows:
" Your earliest dawn of consciousness
My spirit joyed to see
You knew my footsteps lightest fall
And turned your eyes to me.
My nights were blest with dreams of thee
And when the morning came
With feelings born of thankfulness
My lips pronounced your name.
Twas sweet to feel you nestling close
Within my arms' retreat.
I held it as a precious boon
To guide your tottering feet.
Tis not for human tongue to tell
How my sad soul has yearned
When marking how thy cheek beneath
The pulse of fever burned.
Your life was twined around with mine
The glad hours as they went
Were sunny times and left behind
A trail of sweet content.
Twas little that I could bestow,
Mine was no plenteous store.
But oh, I gave you all my love
And I could give no more."
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