Necropolis in the Snow

This morning the snow was coming down heavy in Glasgow. On the way to work I managed to take some quick photographs around the Glasgow Necropolis. It was difficult keeping my camera dry, but I was pleased by the effects created by the falling snow.

This is a view from within the Glasgow Necropolis looking towards the Cathedral.

The Necropolis has been described as a 'unique representation of Victorian Glasgow, built when Glasgow was the second city of the empire. It was inspired by Père Lachaise in Paris, the world's most famous graveyard, this competition-winning design by John Bryce (1833) contains the tombs of some of Glasgow's finest.

This is the Memorial for William Miller (1810 - 1872), the Glasgow-born poet, the 'laureate of the nursery', and the author of the classic 'Willie Winkie'.

Wee Willie Winkie
Rins through the toun,
Up stairs and doun stairs
In his nicht-gown,
Tirling at the window,
Crying at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed,
For it's now ten o'clock?

"Hey, Willie Winkie,
Are ye coming ben?
The cat's singing grey thrums
To the sleeping hen,
The dog's spelder'd on the floor,
And disna gie a cheep,
But here's a waukrife laddie
That winna fa' asleep."

Onything but sleep, you rogue!
Glow'ring like the moon,
Rattling in an airn jug
Wi' an airn spoon,
Rumblin', tumblin', round about,
Crawing like a cock,
Skirlin' like a kenna-what,
Wauk'nin' sleeping folk.

"Hey, Willie Winkie -
The wean's in a creel!
Wamblin' aff a body's knee
Like a very eel,
Ruggin' at the cat's lug,
Rav'llin' a' her thrums -
Hey, Willie Winkie -
See, there he comes!"

Wearied in the mither
That has a stoorie wean,
A wee stumpie stousie,
That canna rin his lane.
That has a battle aye wi' sleep,
Before he'll close an e'e -
But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips
Gies strength anew to me.

William Miller