The sowpe1 their only hawkie2 does afford,
That yont the hallan3 snugly chows her cud.
The dame brings forth, in complimental mood,
To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck fell,"
An' aft he's prest, an' aft he ca's it guid;
The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell,

4

How 'twas a towmond' auld, sin' lint was i' the bell.®

The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face,
They round the ingle form a circle wide;
The sire turns o'er with patriarchal grace

The big ha'-bible," ance his father's pride;
His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside,
His lyart haffets 10 wearing thin and bare;

Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,
He wales 11 a portion with judicious care;
And, "Let us worship God," he says with solemn air.

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 sev'ral way;

The youngling cottagers retire to rest;

The parent-pair their secret homage pay,
And proffer up to Heav'n the warm request,

1 sup, liquid, milk. 2 cow, especially a white-faced cow. the partition. 4 well-saved cheese. 5 strong. 6 often.

month.

locks.

8 since flax was in bloom.

11 chooses.

9 hall Bible.

3 beyond 7 twelve

10 grey side

That He, who stills the raven's clam'rous nest
And decks the lily fair in flow'ry 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.

From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs,
That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd abroad:
Princes and lords are but the breath of kings,
"An honest man's the noblest work of God":
And certes, in fair Virtue's heavenly road,
The cottage leaves the palace far behind:

What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load,
Disguising oft the wretch of human kind,
Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!

O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!

For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent!
Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil

Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!
And, oh! may Heaven their simple lives prevent
From luxury's contagion, weak and vile!

Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent,

A virtuous populace may rise the while,

And stand a wall of fire around their much-lov'd isle.

O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide

That stream'd thro' Wallace's1 undaunted heart,
Who dar'd to nobly stem tyrannic pride,

-

Or nobly die, the second glorious part,-
(The patriot's God peculiarly thou art,
His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward!)
O never, never Scotia's realm desert,
But still the patriot, and the patriot-bard,

In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard!

1 William Wallace, the Scottish national hero, who in 1297 roused the

Scots to resistance after their defeat by Edward I of England.

TO A MOUSE

ON TURNING UP HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH,
NOVEMBER, 1785

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
Oh, what a panic's in thy breastie !
Thou need na start awa sae hasty

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve:
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave

'S a sma' request;

I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big' a new ane,

O' foggage green!

An' bleak December's winds ensuin
Baith snell' an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare and waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,

1 hurrying scamper. 2loath, unwilling.
narrow spade.
four sheaves.

3 paddle, long-handled,

4 sometimes. 5 an occasional ear of grain in twenty6 poor, frail walls. build. 8 decaying grass. 9 biting.

5

10

15

20

25

5

IO

15

20

25

An' cozie here beneath the blast

Thou thought to dwell,

Till crash the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,

To thole the winter's sleety dribble
An' cranreuch3 cauld!

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane'
In proving foresight may be vain :
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley,"

An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain
For promis'd joy.

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But, och! I backward cast my ee3
On prospects drear!

An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT

Is there, for honest poverty,

That hings his head, an' a' that?
The coward slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an' a' that,

30

1 without. askew, amiss.

Our toils obscure, an' a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp;
The man's the gowd for a' that.

2 endure.

6 eye.

7 gold.

3(krān'ruk) hoar-frost.

4 alone.

What tho' on hamely fare we dine,

Wear hodden-gray,' an' a' that;

Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,

A man's a man for a' that.

For a' that, an' a' that,

Their tinsel show, an' a' that;
The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie,2 ca'd a lord,

Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that;
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof3 for a' that:
For a' that, an' a' that,

His riband, star, an' a' that,
The man o' independent mind,
He looks and laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight,

A marquis, duke, an' a' that;

But an honest man's aboon his might,*

Guid faith he mauna fa' that!

For a' that, an' a' that,

Their dignities, an' a' that,

The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth,

Are higher rank than a' that.