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The focial hours, swift-wing'd, unnotic'd

fleet; 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.

VI.

Their Master's an' their Mistress's command,

The younkers a' are warned to obey ;
An' mind their labours wi' an eydent hand,

An' ne'er, tho' out o' fight, to jauk or play; An' o! be sure to fear the LORD alway! * An' mind your duty, duly, morn an'

* night!

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· Lest in temptation's path ye gang aftray,

Implore his counsel and assisting might : • They never fought in vain that sought the

• Lord aright.'

VII.

But hark! a rap comes gently to the door ;

Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor lad cam o'er the moor,

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, enquires his

name, While Jenny haffins is afraid to speak; Weel pleas'd the Mother hears, it's nae wild,

worthless Rake.

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VIII.

Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben;

A strappan youth; he takes the Mother's

eye; si

Blythe Jenny sees the visit’s no ill ta'en ;
The Father cracks of horses, pleughs, and

kye. The Youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy,

But blate and laithfu', scarce can weel be

have ;

The Mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy

What makes the youth fae bashfu' an' sae

grave; Weel pleas'd to think her bairn's respected

like the lave.

IX.

O happy love! where love like this is found !
O heart-felt raptures ! bliss beyond compare!

I'ye

A 4

I've paced much this weary, mortal round,

And fage Experience bids me this declare• If Heav'n a dráught of heav'nly pleasure

· spare, • One cordial in this melancholy Vale, « 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modeft Pair,

• In others arms breathe out the tender

6 tale, . Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the

• ev'ning gale.'

X.

Is there, in human form, that bears a heart

A Wretch ! a Villain ! loft to love and truth! That can, with studied, fly, ensnaring art,

Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth? Curse on his perjur'd arts! dissembling smooth! Are Honor, Virtue, Conscience, all exil'd ?

Is there no Pity, no relenting Ruth,
Points to the Parents fondling o'er their

Child ?
Then paints the ruin's Maid, and their distrac-

tion wild!

XI.

But now the Supper crowns their simple

board, The healsóme Parritch, chief o' Scotia's

food :

The foupe their only Hawkie does afford, That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her

cood: The Dame brings forth- in complimental

mood, To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck, fell,

An'

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