At length his lonely cot appears in view,

Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;

Th' expectant wee things, toddlin', stacher through
To meet their dad, wi, flichterin' noise and glee.
His wee bit ingle, blinking bonnily,

His clean hearthstane, his thrifty wifie's smile,
The lisping infant prattling on his knee,

Does a' his weary carking cares beguile,
And makes him quite forget his labor and his toil.

Belyve,' the elder bairns come drapping in,
At service out, among the farmers roun':
Some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin
A canny errand to neibor town:

Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown,
In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her ee,
Comes hame, perhaps to show a braw new gown,
Or deposit her sair-won penny-fee,

To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be.

Wi' joy unfeign'd, brothers and sisters meet,
And each for other's weelfare kindly spiers:2
The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnoticed, fleet;
Each tells the uncos3 that he sees or hears;
The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years;
Anticipation forward points the view.

The mother wi' her needle and her shears,
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new-
The father mixes a' wi' admonition due.

Their master's and their mistress' command
The younkers a' are warned to obey;
And mind their labors wi' an eydent1 hand,

And ne'er, though out o' sight, to jauks or play:

1 By and by,

2 Inquires.

3 Strange things.
4 Diligent.

5 Dally.

"And oh! be sure to fear the Lord alway!

And mind your duty, duly, morn and 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!"

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,
To do some errands, and convoy her hame.
The wily mother sees the conscious flame

Sparkle in Jenny's ee, and flush her cheek;
Wi' heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name,
While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak;

Weel pleased the mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake.

Wi' kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben;

A strappin' youth; he taks the mother's eye;
Blithe 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 lathefu',2 scarce can weel behave;
The mother wi' a woman's wiles, can spy

What makes the youth sae bashfu' and sae grave; Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave.3

O bappy love!-where love like this is found!-
O heart-felt raptures!-bliss beyond compare!
I've paced much this weary, mortal round,
And sage experience bids me this declare-
"If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,
One cordial in this melancholy vale,

1 Bashful.

2 Hesitating.

3 Other people.

'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair,

In other's arms, breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale."

Is there in human form, that bears a heart,
A wretch, a villain, lost to love and truth,
That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,
Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth?
Curse on his perjured arts! dissembling smooth!
Are honor, virtue, conscience, all exiled?
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,
The halesome parritch, chief o' Scotia's food:
The soupe' their only hawkie2 does afford,

That 'yont the hallan3 snugly chows her cood:
The dame brings forth, in complimental mood,

To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck, fell,' And aft he's prest, and aft he ca's it guid:

The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell,

How 'twas a towmond" auld, sin' lint was i' the bell.

The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face,
They, round the ingle, form a circle wide;
The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,
The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride;
His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside,

His lyart haffets' wearing thin and bare;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,

1 Milk.

2 Cow.

8 Porch.

4 Well-saved cheese. Gray temples. 5 Biting.

6 Twelvemonth.

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,
Or plaintive" Martyrs," worthy of the name;
Or noble "Elgin" beet' the heaven-ward flame,
The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays:
Compared with these Italian trills are tame;

The tickled ear 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;
Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry;

Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire;

Or other holy seers that tuned the sacred lyre.

Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,
How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed;
How HE, who bore in heaven the second name,
Had not on earth whereon to lay His head:
How His first followers and servants sped,
The precepts sage they wrote to many a land:
How he, who lone in Patmos vanished,

Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand:

And heard great Babylon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command.

Then kneeling down, to HEAVEN'S ETERNAL KING,
The saint, the father, and the husband prays:
Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing
That thus they all shall meet in future days:
There ever bask in uncreated rays,

No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear,
Together hymning their Creator's praise,
In such society, yet still more dear;

While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.

Compared with this, how poor religion's pride,
In all the pomp of method, and of art,
When men display to congregations wide
Devotion's every grace, except the heart!
The Power, incensed, the pageant will desert,
The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole:
But, haply, in some cottage far apart,

May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul; And in his book of life the inmates poor enrol.

Then homeward all take off their several way;
The youngling cottagers retire to rest:

The parent-pair their secret homage pay,
And proffer up to Heaven the warm request
That HE, who stills the raven's clamorous nest,
And decks the lily fair in flowery pride,
Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best,

For them and for their little ones provide;
But, chiefly, in their hearts with grace divine preside.

From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs,
That makes her loved at home, revered abroad:
Princes and lords are but the breath of kings,

** Pope's "Windsor Forest."