Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor.
Gray.
My lov'd, my honor'd, much respected friend!
No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,—
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 Aiken in a cottage would have been;
Ah! though his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween.
November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh;[1]
The short'ning winter-day is near a close;
The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh;
The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose:
The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor goes—
This night his weekly moil is at an end,—
Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes,
Hoping the morn[2] 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[3] through,
To meet their dad, wi' flichterin[4] noise an' glee.
His wee bit ingle,[5] 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 labor an' his toil.
Belyve,[6] the elder bairns come drapping in,
At service out, amang the farmers roun';
Some ca'[7] the pleugh, some herd, some tentie[8] rin
A canny[9] errand to a neebor town:
Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown,
In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her e'e,
Comes hame, perhaps, to show a braw[10] new gown,
Or deposite[11] her sair-won[12] penny-fee,[13]
To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be.
Wi' joy unfeign'd, brothers and sisters meet
And each for other's welfare kindly spiers:[14]
The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnoticed fleet;
Each tells the uncos[15] that he sees or hears;
The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years;
Anticipation forward points the view.
The mother, wi' her needle an' her shears,
Gars[16] 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 warnèd to obey;
An' mind their labors wi' an eydent[17] hand,
An' ne'er, though out o' sight, to jauk[18] 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;
Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same,
Tells how a neebor 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 e'e, an' flush her cheek;
Wi' heart-struck, anxious care, inquires his name,
While Jenny hafflins[19] is afraid to speak;
Weel pleas'd the mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake.
Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben;[20]
A strappan youth; he taks the mother's eye;
Blithe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en;
The father cracks[21] of horses, pleughs, and kye.
The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy,
But, blate[22] an' laithfu',[23] 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.[24]