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Belyve the elder bairns come drappin in,
At service out, amang the farmers roun';
A cannie errand to a neebour 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,
An each for other's weelfare kindly spiers ;
Each tells the uncosc 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,
Garsd auld claese look amaist as weel's the new ; The father mixes a' wi' admonition due. Their masters' and their mistresses' command,
Their younkers a' are wamed to obey; An' mind their labours wi' an eydent' hand,
An' ne'er, tho' 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 aright!
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 lyarta haffets wearin thin and bare;
He wales a portion with judicious care;
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, While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Then homeward all take off their several way;
The youngling cottagers retire to rest : The parent pair their secret homage pay,
And proffer up to Heaven the warm request, That He who stills the raven's clamorous nest,
And decks the lily fair in flowery pride, Would, in the way his wisdom sees the best,
For them and for their little ones provide ; But chiefly in their hearts with grace divine preside.
A MOTHER'S DEATH.
Then died lamented, in the strength of life,
But when to all that knit us to our kind,
Slowly they bore, with solemn step, the dead :-
Curious and sad, upon the fresh-dug hill,