BURNS'S “ COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT.”

My loved, my honored, much respected friend !

No mercenary bard bis homage pays : With honest pride I scorn each selfish end,

My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise : To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays,

The lowly train in life's sequestered scene, The native feelings strong, the guileless ways

Which A— in a cottage would have been ; Ah ! though his worth unknown, far happier there, I

Their master's an' their mistress's command

The yonkers a’ are warned to obey,
An' mind their labors 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 and night, Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray ;

Implore His counsel and assisting might, They never sought in vain who sought the Lord

aright. 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, inquires his name,

While Jenny hafilins is afraid to speak ; Weel pleased the mother hears it's nao wild, worth

less rake.

ween.

November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ;

The shortning winter day is near a close ; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh,

The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose ; The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor goes,

This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes,

Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward

bend.

At length his lonely cot appears in view,

Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; The expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through,

To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise and glee, His wee bit ingle blinkin bonnily,

His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie's smile, The lisping infant pratiling on his knee,

Does a' his weary, carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labor and his toil.

Wi’ kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben :

A strappan youth; he takes the mother's eye ; 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 an' laithfu', scarce can weel behave : The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy

What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave, Weel pleased to think her bairn’s respected like the

lave.

O happy love! where love like this is found !

O heartfelt raptures ! bliss beyond compare !
I've pacéd much this weary, mortal round,

And sage experience bids me this declare :
If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,

One cordial in this melancholy vale,
'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 even

ing gale.

Wi' joy unfeigned, brothers and sisters meet,

An each for other's welfare kindly spiers : The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnoticed 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 shears,

Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new ; The father mixes a' wi admonition due.

Is there, in human form, that bears a heart

A wretch ! a villain ! lost to love and truth ! That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,

Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth? Curse on his perjured arts ! dissembling smooth !

Are honor, virtue, conscience, all exiled ? Is there no pity, no relenting ruth,

Points to the parents fondling o'er their child, Then paints the ruined maid, and their distraction 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.

But now the supper crowns the simple board :

The halesome parritoh, chief o' Scotia's food : The soup 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, And aft he's prest, and aft he ca's it guid.

The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell How thus 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, wi' patriarchal grace,

The big Ha' Bible, ance his father's pride ;
His bonnet reverently is laid aside,

His lyart haffets wearin thin an' bare.
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide,

He wales a portion with judicious care ;
And, let us worship God! he says, with solemn air.

GLOSSARY. Sugh, sigh ; pleugh, plough ; craws, croms; moil, labor ; wee, little ; toddlin, tottering ; stacher, stagger ; flichterin, fluttering ; ingle, fire ; blinkin, glimmering ; carking, corrolling ; belyve, by and by ; bairns, children; drapping, dropping ; roun, round ; ca, drive ; tentie, careful; rin, run ; cannie, dextrous ; e'e, eye; braw, handsome ; spiers, inquires ; uncos, strange things í gars, makes; eydent, diligent ; jauk, joke ; gang, go; wha kens, who knows ; halflins, half, partly ; ben, into the room ; strappan. strapping ; ta’en, taken ; cracks, talks ; kye, cows ; blate, bashful; laithfu', sheepish; lave, rest ; parritch, porridge; bawkie, cow ; cood, cud ; 'yont the hallant, beyond the partition wall; hained, saved ; kebbuck, cheese ; fell, evenly cut ; towmond, twelvemonth ; lint in the bell, flax in blossom ; ha', hall ; lyart, gray ; haflets, temples ; wales, selects ; beets, adds fuel to ; Dundee and Elgin, well-known psalm tunes. - See also glossaries, pp. 186, 336.

They chant their artless notes in simple guise,

They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim ; Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise,

Or plaintive Martyrs, worthy of the name, Or noble Elgin beets the heavenward flame,

The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays ; Compared with these Italian trills are tame;

The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise : Nae unison bae they with our Creator's praise.

The priest-like father reads the sacred page,

How Abram was the friend of God on high ; Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage

With Amalek's ungracious progeny ; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie

Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire, Or Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry ;

Or rapt Isaiah's wild seraphic fire ; or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre.

FLETCHER'S “ SHEPHERD'S EVE.”

SHEPHERDS all, and maidens fair,
Fold your flocks up, for the air
'Gins to thicken, and the sun
Already his great course hath run.
See the dew-drops, how they kiss
Every little flower that is
Hanging on their velvet heads,
Like a rope of crystal beads;
See the heavy clouds low falling,
And bright Hesperus down calling
The dead night from underground ;
At whose rising mists unsound,
Damps and vapors fly apace,
Hovering o'er the wanton face
Of those pastures where they come,
Striking dead both bud and bloom.
Therefore from such danger lock
Every one his loved flock;
And let your dogs lie loose without,
Lest the wolf come as a scout
From the mountain, and, ere day,
Bear a lamb or kid away ;
Or the crafty, thievish fox
Break upon your simple flocks.
To secure yourself from these,
Be not too secure in ease;
Let one eye his watches keep,
While the other eye doth sleep;
So you shall good shepherds prove,
And forever hold the love
Of our great God. Sweetest slumbers,
And soft silence, fall in numbers
On your eyelids ! so farewell !
Thus I end my evening knell !

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 their warm request, That He who stills the raven's clamorous nest,

« MARRIAGES.'

ARGUMENT.

Previous consideration necessary : yet not too long delay.

Imprudent marriage of old Kirk and his servant : his apprehensions. Comparison between an ancient and youthful partner to a young man. Prudence of Donald, the gardener. Parish wedding: the compelled bridegroom : day of marriage, how spent. Relation of the accomplishments of Phehe Dawson, a rustic heauty : her lover : his courtship: their marriage : misery of precipitation. The wealthy couple: reluctance in the husband, why? Unusually fair signatures in the register : the common kind. Seduction of Bridget Dawdie, by footman Daniel : her rustic lover : her return to him. An ancient couple : three comparisons on the occasion. More pleasant view of village matrimony : farmers celebrating the day of marriage : their wives. Reuben and Rachel an happy pair : an example of prudent delay. Reflections on their state who were not so prudent, and its improvement towards the termination of life: an old man so circumstanced. Attempt to seduce a village beauty : persuasion and reply : the event.

Nubere si quà voles quamvis properabitis ambo,
Differ ; habent parvæ commola magna more.

Ovid. Fast. lib. 3.

A sly old fish, too cunning for the hook ;
And now at sixty that pert dame to see
Of all thy savings mistress, and of thee ;
Now will the lads, remembering insults past,
Cry, "What, the wise one in the trap at last!'
Fie, Nathan ! fie ! to let a sprightly jade
Leer on thy bed, then ask thee how 't was made,
And lingering walk around at head and feet,
To see thy nightly comforts all complete ;
Then waiting seek - not what she said she sought,
And bid a penny for her master's thought
(A thought she knew, and thou couldst not send

hence,
Well as thou lovedst them, for ten thousand pence);
And thus with some bold hint she would retire,
That waked the idle wish and stirred the slumbering
Didst thou believe thy passion all so laid, (fire;
That thou might'st trifle with thy wanton maid,
And feel amused and yet not feel afraid ?
The driest fagot, Nathan, once was green,
And, laid on embers, still some sap is seen ;
Oaks, bald like thee above, that cease to grow,
Feel yet the warmth of Spring and bud below;
More senseless thou than fagot on the fire,
For thou couldst feel, and yet wouldst not retire ;
Less provident than dying trees,

for they Some vital strength, some living fire, display, But none that tend to wear the life itself away. Even now I see thee to the altar come ; Downcast thou wert, and conscious of thy doom : I see thee glancing on that shape aside, With blended looks of jealousy and pride ; But growing fear has long the pride supprest, And but one tyrant rankles in thy breast; Now of her love a second pledge appears, And doubts on doubts arise, and fears on fears ; Yet fear defy, and be of courage stout, Another pledge will banish every doubt ; Thine age advancing as thy powers retire, (quire ? Will make thee sure- what more wouldst thou re

MARRY DELIBERATELY ; LOVE AND PRUDENCE. Disposed to wed, e'en while you hasten, stay, There's great advantage in a small delay ; Thus Ovid sang, and much the wise approve This prudent maxim of the priest of love : If poor, delay shall for that want prepare, That, on the hasty, brings a world of care ; If rich, delay shall brace the thoughtful mind, Tendure the ills that even the happiest find : Delay shall knowledge yield, on either part, And show the value of the vanquished heart : The humors, passions, merits, failings, prove, And gently raise the veil that's worn by love ; Love, that impatient guide ! - too proud to think Of vulgar wants, of clothing, meat, and drink, Urges our amorous swains their joys to seize, And then at rags and hunger frightened flees : Yet thee too long let not thy fears detain ; Till age, refrain not — but if old, refrain.

THE OLD MAN AND HIS YOUNG BRIDE ; NATHAN AND HIS

WANTON NURSE. UNCERTAINTIES. By no such rule would Gaffer Kirk be tied ; First in the year he led a blooming bride, And stood a withered elder at her side. 0! Nathan ! Nathan ! at thy years trepanned, To take a wanton harlot by the hand ! Thou, who wert used so tartly to express Thy sense of matrimonial happiness, Till every youth, whose banns at church were read, Strove not to meet, or, meeting, hung his head ; And every lass forbore at thce to look,

Thus with example sad our year began, A wanton vixen and a weary man ;

But had this tale in other guise been told,' Young let the lover be, the lady old, And that disparity of years shall prove No bane of peace, although some bar to love : "T is not the worst, our nuptial ties among, That joins the ancient bride and bridegroom young; Young wives, like changing winds, their power disBy shifting points and varying day by day ; [play,

And saw the final shilling foully spent ;
Then to her father's hut the pair withdrew,
And bade to love and comfort long adieu !

Ah ! fly temptation, youth ; refrain ! refrain !
I preach forever ; but I preach in vain !

Now zephyrs mild, now whirlwinds in their force,
They sometimes speed, but often thwart our course:
And much experienced should that pilot be,
Who sails with them, on life's tempestuous sea :
But like a trade-wind is the ancient dame,
Mild to your wish, and every day the same ;
Steady as time, no sudden squalls you fear,
But set full sail and with assurance steer ;
Till every danger in your way be past,
And then she gently, mildly, breathes her last ;
Rich you arrive, in port a while remain,
And for a second venture sail again.

YOUNG DONALD AND OLD MRS. DOBSON. -- LUCY, SUSAN, AND

CATHARINE, FOILED. For this blithe Donald southward made his way, And left the lasses on the banks of Tay ; Him to a neighboring garden fortune sent ; Whom we beheld aspiringly content : Patient and mild he sought the damne to please, Who ruled the kitchen and who bore the keys; Fair Lucy first, the laundry's grace and pride, With smiles and gracious looks, her fortune tried ; But all in vain she praised his “pawky eyne,' Where never fondness was for Lucy seen ; Hiin the mild Susan, boast of dairies, loved, And found him civil, cautious, and unmoved ; From many a fragrant simple Catharine's skill Drew oil, drew essence from the boiling still ; But not her warmth, nor all her winning ways, From his cool phlegm could Donald's spirit raise ; Of beauty heedless, with the merry mute, To Mrs. Dobson he preferred his suit; There proved his service, there addressed his vows, And saw her mistress, friend, protectress, spouse. A butler

now,

he thanks his powerful bride, And, like her keys, keeps constant at her side.

THE VILLAGE BELLE, PHEBE DAWSOX. - HER CHARMS, VIR

TCES, AND TRIUMPHS. Two summers since, I saw at Lammas fair The sweetest flower that ever blossomed there ; When Phebe Dawson gayly crossed the green, In haste to see, and happy to be seen ; Her air, her manners, all who saw admired ; Courteous though coy, and gentle though retired; The joy of youth and health her eyes displayed, And ease of heart her every look conveyed ; A native skill her simple robes expressed, As with untutored elegance she dressed ; The lads around admired so fair a sight, And Phebe felt, and felt she gave, delight. Admirers soon of every age she gained, Her beauty won them, and her worth retained ; Envy itself could no contempt display They wished her well, whom yet they wished away; Correct in thought, she judged a servant's place Preserved a rustic beauty from disgrace ; But yet on Sunday eve, in freedom's hour, With secret joy she felt that beauty's power; When some proud bliss upon the heart would steal, That, poor or rich, a beauty still must feel.

HER ACCEPTED LOVER, THE TAILOR. At length, the youth ordained to move her breast Before the swains with bolder spirit pressed ; With looks less timid made his passion known, And pleased by manners most unlike her own; Loud though in love, and confident though young ; Fierce in his air, and voluble of tongue ; By trade a tailor, though, in scorn of trade, He served the squire, and brushed the coat he made; Yet now, would Phebe her consent afford, Her slave alone, again he'd mount the board ; With her should years of growing love be spent, And growing wealth : — she sighed, and looked con

sent.

THE COMPELLED WEDDING; MISERY FROM SIN.

Next at cur altar stood a luckless pair, Brought by strong passions and a warrant there ; By long rent cloak, hung loosely, strove the bride From every eye what all perceived to hide ; While the boy-bridegroom, shuffling in his pace, Now hid a while and then exposed his face ; As shame alternately with anger strove The brain, confused with muddy ale, to more ; In haste and stammering he performed his part, And looked the rage that rankled in his heart (So will each lover inly curse his fate, Too soon made happy, and made wise too late); I saw his features take a savage gloom, And deeply threaten for the days to come ; Low spake the lass, and lisped and minced the while; Looked on the lad, and faintly tried to smile ; With softened speech and humbled tone sho strove To stir the embers of departed love ; While he, a tyrant, frowning walked before, Felt the poor purse, and sought the public door, She sadly following in submission went,

THE LOVERS' STROLL, — TEMPTATION YIELDED TO. Now, through the lane, up hill, and 'cross the Seen but by fow and blushing to be seen – (green, Dejected, thoughtful, anxious, and afraid, Led by the lover, walked the silent maid : Slow through the meadows roved they, many a mile, Toyed by each bank and trifled at each stile ; Where, as he painted every blissful view, And highly colored what he strongly drew, The pensive damsel, prone to tender fears, Dimmed the false prospect with prophetic tears : Thus passed the allotted hours, till, lingering late, The lover loitered at the master's gate ; There he pronounced adieu ! and yet would stay, Till chidden, soothed, entreated, forced away ;