SATURDAY NIGHT[*]

My loved, my honored, much respected friend![1]
No mercenary bard his 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, 5
The lowly train in life's sequestered scene;
The native feelings strong, the guileless ways;
What Aikin in a cottage would have been;
Ah! tho' his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween![2]

November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh;[3] 10
The short'ning winter-day is near a close;
The miry beasts retreating frae[4] the pleugh;[5]
The black'ning trains o' craws[6] to their repose:
The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor goes,
This night his weekly moil[7] is at an end, 15
Collects his spades, his mattocks,[8] and his hoes,
Hoping the morn[9] in ease and rest to spend,
And weary, o'er the moor, his course does homeward[10] bend.

At length his lonely cot appears in view,
Beneath the shelter of an aged tree; 20
Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher[11] through
To meet their dad, wi' flichterin'[12] noise and glee.
His wee bit ingle,[13] blinkin bonilie,[14]
His clean hearth-stane,[15] his thrifty wine's smile,
The lisping infant prattling on his knee, 25
Does a' his weary kiaugh and care beguile,[16]
And makes him quite forget his labor and his toil,

Belyve the elder bairns come drapping in,[17]
At service out, amang the farmers roun';
Some ca'[18] the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin 30
A cannie errand to a neebor town:[19]
Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown,
In youthfu' bloom, love sparkling in her e'e,[20]
Comes hame, perhaps, to shew a braw[21] new gown,
Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee,[22] 35
To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be.

With joy unfeigned brothers and sisters meet,
And each for other's weelfare kindly spiers:[23]
The social hours, swift-winged, unnoticed fleet;
Each tells the uncos[24] that he sees or hears. 40
The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years;
Anticipation forward points the view;
The mother wi' her needle and her sheers[25]
Gars auld claes look amaist as weel 's the new;[26]
The father mixes a' wi' admonition due. 45

Their mast