Collects his fpades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his courfe does hameward bend. III. At length his lonely Cot appears in view, To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee. His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonnily, His clean hearth-ftane, his thriftie Wife's fmile, The lifping infant prattling on his knee, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labor an' his toil. A 2 IV. IV. Belyve the elder bairns come drapping in, At service out, amang the Farmers roun'; Some ca' the pleugh, fome herd, fome tentie rin A cannie errand to a neebor town: Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, In youthfu' bloom, Love fparkling in her e'e, Comes hame, perhaps, to fhew a braw new gown, Or depofite her fair-won penny fee, To help her Parents dear, if they in hardship be. V. Wi' joy unfeign'd brothers and fifters meet, An' each for other's weelfare kindly speirs: The The focial hours, fwift-wing'd, unnotic'd fleet; Each tells the uncos that he fees or hears; The Parents, partial, eye their hopeful years; Anticipation forward points the view. The Mother, wi' her needle an' her sheers, Gars auld claes look amaift as weel's the new; The Father mixes a' wi' admonition due. VI. Their Master's an' their Miftrefs's command, • Left in temptation's path ye gang aftray, 6 Implore his counsel and affifting might; • They never fought in vain that fought the • LORD aright.' VII. But hark! a rap comes gently to the door; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor lad cam o'er the moor, To do fome errands, and convoy her hame. The wily Mother fees the conscious flame Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek; With heart ftruck anxious care, enquires his name, While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak; Weel pleas'd the Mother hears, it's nae wild, worthless Rake. VIII. Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben; A ftrappan youth; he takes the Mother's eye; Blythe Jenny fees the vifit's no ill ta'en; The Father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. The Youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy, But blate and laithfu', fcarce can weel be have; The Mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can fpy What makes the youth fae bashfu' an' fae grave; Weel pleas'd to think her bairn's refpected like the lave. IX. O happy love! where love like this is found! O heart-felt raptures! blifs beyond compare! |