THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT. INSCRIBED TO R. A ESQ. 1 Let not ambition mock their useful toil, Gray. My loved, my honour'd, much respected friend! My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: To 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. November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh; 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. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree; The' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher thro' To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin noise an' 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, Belyve, the elder bairns come drapping in, Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her ee, Comes hame, perhaps, to shew 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, An' each for other's welfare kindly spiers: The social hours, swift wing'd, unnoticed fleet; Each tells the uncos that he sees 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 amaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a' wi' admonition due. Their master's an' their mistress's command, The younkers a' are warned to obey; An' mind their labours wi' an eydent hand, An' ne'er, tho' out o' sight, to jauk or play : An' oh! be sure to fear the Lord alway! 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!' But hark! a rap comes gently to the door; To do some errands, and convoy her hame. Sparkle in Jenny's ee, and flush her cheek; Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben; The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy, But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave; The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy What maks the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave; Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave. O happy love! where love like this is found! And sage experience bids me this declare'If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, "Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In others 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- Curse on his perjured arts! dissembling smooth! 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 Hawkie does afford, That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood: The dame brings forth in complimental mood, To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck, fell, An' aft he's prest, an' aft he ca's it guid; The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell [bell. How 'twas a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the 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 reverently is laid aside, 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, Or plaintive Martyrs', worthy of the name: Or noble Elgin beets the heavenward flame, The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays : Compared with these, Italian thrills are tame; The tickled ears no heart-felt raptures raise; Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise. The priestlike 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 other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; 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; [sphere. While circling time moves round in an eternal Compared with this, how poor Religion's pride, |