The mother, wi' her needle and her sheers, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new The father mixes a' wi' admonition due. Their master's and their mistress's command, An' ne'er, though out o' sight, to jauk or play; An' oh! be sure to fear the Lord alway! An' mind your duty, duly, morn an' night! They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright!" But hark! a rap comes gently to the door; Weel pleased the mother hears, it's nae wild, worthless rake. Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben; What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave; O happy love! where love like this is found! "T is when a youthful, loving, modest pair In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale." Is there, in human form, that bears a heart- Points to the parents fondling o'er their child? But now the supper crowns their simple board, How 't was a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell. His bonnet reverently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin and bare; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, And "Let us worship God!" he says, with solemn air. They chant their artless notes in simple guise; The priest-like father reads the sacred page, Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme, |