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“ I taught thy manners-painting strains, The loves, the-ways of simple swains, Till now, o'er all my wide domains
Thy fame extends : And some, the pride of Coila's plains,
Become thy friends. “Thou canst not learn, nor can I show, To paint with Thompson's landcape glow; Or wake the bosom-melting throe,
With Shenstone's art
Warm on the heart.
His army shade,
Adown the glade.
Nor king's regard,
A rustic Bard.
“To give my counsels all in one, Thy tuneful flame still careful fan; Preserve the Dignity of Man,
With soul erect; And trust, the Universal Plan
Will all protect. " And wear thou this !"-she solemn said And bound the Holly round my head :
The polish'd leaves, and berries red,
Did rustling play ;
In light away.
COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT,
INSCRIBED TO R. A****, ESQ.
Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys and destiny obscure ; Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile, The short but simple annals of the poor.
No mercenary Bard his homage pays;
My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise ; To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays,
The lowly train in life's sequesterd 'scene;
What A**** in a cottage would have been;
The short'ning winter-day is near a close;
The black’ning trains o craws to their
The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor goes,
This night his weekly moil is at the 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 home
At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
To meet their Dad, wi' flichter in noise an'gtee. His wee, bit ingle, blinkin bonily,
His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wife's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee,
Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quíte forget his labor and his toil.
Belyve the elder bairns come drappin in,
At service out, amang the farmers roun';
A cannie errand to a neebor town;
In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her e'e, Comes hame, perhaps, to show a braw new gown,
Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee, To help her parents dear, if they do hardship be.
Wi' joy unfein'd brothers and sisters meet,
An' each for other's welfare kindly spiers : The social hours, swift-wing’d, unnoticed fleet i
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 band,
An' ne'er thro' out o’ sight, to jauk or play : An’O! 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
Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same,
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, inquires his name,
While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak ; Weel pleas'd the mother hears, it's nae wild, worth
Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings bim ben;
A strappan youth; he takes the mother's eye : Blithe Jenny sees thé visit's no ill ta'en';
The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and
The youngster's artless heart o'erflow wi' joy,
But blate and laithfu', 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.
O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare !
And sage experience bids me this declare"If Heaven a draught of heav'nly pleasure spare,
One cordial in this melanchnly vale,
In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the ev’ning gale.”
A wretch ! a villain! lost to love and truth !
Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth? Curse on his perjur'd 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
But now the supper crowns their simple board!
„The halesome parritch, chief o' Scotia's food; The soup their only Hawkie does afford,
That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cud : The dame brings forth in complimental mood,