repose: The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh; And weary, bend. o'er the moor, his course does hameward At length his lonely cot appears in view, Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie's smile, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labor an' his toil. Belyve, the elder bairns come drapping in, Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman-grown, In youthfu' bloom-love sparkling in her e'e Comes hame, perhaps, to shew a braw new gown, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be. With joy unfeign'd brothers and sisters meet, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a' wi' admonition due. Their master's an' their mistress's command, But hark! a rap comes gently to the door ; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neibor lad cam o'er the moor, Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek; Wi' kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben; A strappin' youth, he takes the mother's eye; Blythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en; The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy, But blate an' laithfu', scarce can weel behave; The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave; Weel-pleas'd to think her bairn's respected like the lave. O happy love! where love like this is found! "Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the ev'ning gale." Is there, in human form, that bears a heart- Is there no pity, no relenting ruth, Points to the parents fondling o'er their child? Then paints the ruin'd maid, and their distraction wild? But now the supper crowns their simple board, That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood: The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell, How 'twas a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell. The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face, The big ha'-Bible, ance his father's pride: His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care, And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air They chant their artless notes in simple guise, They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim; Perhaps Dundee's' wild warbling measures rise, 6 Or plaintive Martyrs,' worthy of the name; Or noble 'Elgin' beets the heaven-ward flame The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays: Compar'd with these, Italian trills are tame; The tickl'd ears no heartfelt raptures raise; Nae unison hae they, with our Creator's praise. The priest-like father reads the sacred page, How Abram was the friend of God on high; Or, Moses bade eternal warfare wage With Amalek's ungracious progeny; Or, how the royal Bard did groaning lie Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire; |