Now, Deddy, let me ease yor arm;
Gi'e me the bairn, lay down yor pipe,
And get the supper when it's warm—
It's just a bit o' gissy's tripe.
Then come to me, ma little lammy—
Come, thou apple o' ma e'e—
Come, ma Neddy, t' the mammy—
Come, ma darlin'—come to me!"
Here, see a woman truly blest
Beyond the reach of pomp and pride;
Her infant happy at her breast—
Her husband happy by her side.
Then take a lesson, pamper'd wealth,
And learn how little it requires
To make us happy when we've health—
Content—and moderate desires.
"Tha father, Ned, is far frae weel,
He lucks, poor body, varra bad;
A' ower he hez a cawdrife feel,
But thinks it but a waff o' cawd.
Aw've just been ower wi' something warm,
To try to ease the weary coff,
Which baffles byeth the drugs and charm!
And threatens oft to tyek him off.
He says, 'O Nan, ma life thou's spar'd—
The good it's duin me's past beleevin'—
The Lord will richly thee rewaird—
The care o' me will win thee heeven.'
Now as his bottle's nearly tuim,
Mind think me on, when at the town,
To get the drop black beer and rum,
As little else will now gan down.
We mebby may be awd worsel's,
When poverty's cawd blast is blawin';
And want a frien' when nature fyels,
And life her last few threeds is drawin'.
Besides, the bits o' good we dee
The verra happiest moments gie us;
And mun, aw think, still help a wee,
At last, frae awfu' skaith to free us.