The Late Sir John Ogilvy — Summary

Alas! Sir John Ogilvy is dead, aged eighty-seven, But I hope his soul is now in heaven; For he was a generous-hearted gentleman I am sure, And, in particular, very kind unto the poor. He was a Christian gentleman in every degree, And, for many years, was an M.P. for Bonnie Dundee, And, while he was an M.P., he didn't neglect To advocate the rights of Dundee in every respect. He was a public benefactor in many ways, Especially in erecting an asylum for imbecile children to spend their days; Then he handed the institution over as free,-- As a free gift and a boon to the people of Dundee. He was chairman of several of the public boards in Dundee, And among these were the Asylum Board and the Royal Infirmary; In every respect he was a God-fearing true gentleman, And to gainsay it there's nobody can. He lived as a Christian gentleman in his time, And he now lies buried in the family vault in Strathmartine; But I hope his soul has gone aloft where all troubles cease, Amongst the blessed saints where all is joy and peace. To the people around Baldovan he will be a great loss, Because he was a kind-hearted man and a Soldier of the Cross. He had always a kind word for every one he met, And the loss of such a good man will be felt with deep regret Because such men as Sir John Ogilvy are hard to be found, Especially in Christian charity his large heart did abound, Therefore a monument should be erected for him most handsome to behold, And his good deeds engraven thereon in letters of gold.

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The speaker mourns Sir John Ogilvy, an eighty-seven-year-old former MP and benefactor from Dundee, with an unpolished but completely genuine warmth. He lists Ogilvy’s good deeds in a plain, almost childlike way: speaking up for the city in Parliament, chairing hospital and asylum boards, and most touchingly, building a home for “imbecile children” and giving it freely to the people. There’s no literary artfulness here, just the unwavering belief that a man so generous to the poor must now be in heaven among the saints. That simple faith gives the poem a soothing, earnest tone. The repeated wish for a golden-lettered monument shows a deep need to see everyday goodness publicly remembered. You get the strong impression of a local admirer speaking at a funeral—sad, proud, and entirely without pretence. The mood is tender, slightly naïve, and filled with a quiet, steady affection.

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