With honest pride 1 scorn each selfish end ; “An' (, be sure to fear the Lord alway!

My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise. An' mind your duty, duly, morn an' night! To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays,

Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray, The lowly train in life's sequestered scene ; Implore his counsel and assisting might; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways; They never sought in vain that sought the Lord

What Aiken in a cottage would have been ; aright !” Ah! though his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween.

But, hark ! a rap comes gently to the door. November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ;

Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same,

Tells how a nejbor lad cam o'er the moor, The shortening winter-day is near a close ; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh,

To do some errands and convoy her hame. The blackening trainso’craws to their repose;

The wily mother sees the conscious flame The toilworn cotter frae his labor goes,

Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek; This night his weekly moil is at an end,

Wi' heart-struck anxious care inquires his Collects hisspades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend,

While Jenny hafllins is afraid to speak ; And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hame Weel pleased the mother hears it's nae wild, worthward bend.

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Belyve the elder bairns come drapping in, O happy love! where love like this is found !

At service out amang the farmers roun' ; O heartfelt raptures ! bliss beyonil compare ! Some ca’ the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin I've pacéd much this weary mortal round, A cannie errand to a neibor town ;

And sage experience bids me this declare : Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,

In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her e'e, One cordial in this melancholy vale, Comes hame, perhaps, to shew a bra' new gown, 'T is when a youthful, loving, modest pair Or deposit her sair-won penny-fee,

In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be. Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the even.

ing gale. Wï' joy unfeigned brothers and sisters meet,

An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers : Is there, in human form, that bears a heart, The social hours, swift-winged, unnoticed fleet; A wretch, a villain, lost to love and truth,

Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears ; That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ; Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth?

Anticipation forward points the view. Curse on hisperjured arts ! dissembling-mooth! The mother, wi' her needle an' her shears,

Are honor, virtue, conscience, all exiled ? Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; Is there no pity, no relenting ruth, The father mixes a' wi' admonition due.

Points to the parents fondling o'ertheir child, Then paints the ruined maid, and their distrace

tion wild ? Their master's an' their mistress's command,

The younkers a’ are warned to obey ; And mind their labors wi' an eydent hand, But now the supper crowns their simple board,

And ne'er, though out o'sight, to jaukor play; The halesome parritch, chief v' Scotia's food;



The soupe their only hawkie does afford, Hope “springsexulting on triumphant wing,"

That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood ; That thus they all shall meet in future days; The dame brings forth, in complimental mood, There ever bask in uncreated rays,

Tograce thelad, her weel-hained kebbuck fell, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, An' aft he's prest, an' aft he ca's it guid ; Together hymning their Creator's praise, The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell,

In such society, yet still more dear; Now 't was a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the While circling Time moves round in an eternal bell.

sphere. XII.

XVII. The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face,

Compared with this, how poor Religion's pride, They, round the ingle, form a circle wide; The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace,

In all the pomp of method and of art,

When men display to congregations wide, The big ha’- Bible, ance his father's pride ; His bonnet reverently is laid aside,

Devotion's every grace, except the heart !

The Power, incensed, the pageant will desert, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare : Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,

The pompous strain, the sacerdotal stole ;

But, haply, in some cottage far apart,
He wales a portion with judicious care ;
And“ Let us worship God !” he says with solemn

May hear, well pleased, the language of the

soul; air.

And in his Book of Life the inmates poor enroll. XIII. They chant their artless notes in simple guise ;

XVIII. They tune their hearts, by farthe noblest aim:

Then homeward all take off their several way; Perhaps “Dundee's" wild-warbling measures rise,

The youngling cottagers retire to rest : Orplaintive “Martyrs," worthy of the name ;

The parent-pair their secret homage pay, Or noble “ Elgin" beets the heavenward flame,

And proffer up to heaven the warm request,

That He who stills the raven's clamorous nest, The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays : Compared with these, Italian trills are tame ;

And decks the lily fair in flowery pride, The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise ;

Would, in the way his wisdom sees the best,

For them and for their little ones provide ; Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise.

But, chiefly, in their hearts with grace divine pre

side. XIV. The priest-like father reads the sacred page,

How Abram was the friend of God on high ; From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage

springs, With Amalek's ungracious progeny,

That makes herloved at home, revered abroad; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie

Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire ;

“An honest man's the noblest work of Gou!” Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry;

And certes, in fair Virtue's heavenly road, Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire ;

The cottage leaves the palace far behind : Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. What is a lordling's pomp? -a cuinbrous lond,

Disguising oft the wretch of human kind,

Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined ! Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme,

How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed;
How He, who bore in heaven the second name, O Scotia ! my dear, my native soil !

Had not on earth whereon to lay his head : For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is How his first followers and servants sped;

sent, The precepts sage they wrote to many a land ; Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil How he, who lone in Patmos banished,

Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand,

content ! And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by And, 0, may Heaven their simple lives prevent Heaven's command.

From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent,

A virtuous populace may rise the while, Then, kneeling down, to heaven's eternal King, And stand a wall of fire around thrir much-loved

The saint, the father, and the husband prays : isle.





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Glory to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light;
Keep me, O, keep me, King of kings,
Beneath thy own almighty wings !
Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ill that I this day have done ;
That with the world, myself, and thee
1, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
Teach me to live, that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed ;
To die, that this vile body may
Rise glorious at the judgment-day.

From all that dwell below the skies
Let the Creator's praise arise ;
Let the Redeemer's name be sung
Through every land, by every tongue.

Eternal are thy mercies, Lord,
Eternal truth attends thy word ;
Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore,
Till suns shall rise and set no more.


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Jeans idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart & gather to the eyes

on the happy Autumn fields,


In looking And thinking


are no more.


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