V. Oh! enviable, early days, When dancing thoughtless pleasure's maze, That active man engage! III. Thou Pow'r Supreme, whose mighty scheme These woes of mine fulfil, Here, firm, I rest, they must be best, Then all I want (O, do thou grant This one request of mine!) Since to enjoy thou dost deny, Assist me to resign. THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT, Inscribed to R. A****, Esq. Let not ambition mock their useful toil, I. Gray. My lov'd, my honour'd, much-respected friend! With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, Το you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; What A**** in a cottage would have been ; Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there I ween! II. November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ; The toil-worn cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. III. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher thro' glee. His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonnily, His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee, Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labour an' his toil. IV. 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, Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be. V. Wi' joy unfeign'd brothers and sisters meet, The mother, wi' her needle an' her sheers, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a' wi' admonition due. VI. Their master's an' their mistress's command, An' mind your duty, duly, morn, an' night! Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray, Implore his counsel and assisting might: They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright!" VII. But hark! a rap comes gently to the door; To do some errands, and convoy her hame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek; With heart-struck 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; 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 and laithfu', scarce can weel be have; 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. |