At length his lonely cot appears in view,
     Beneath the shelter of an aged tree;
     Th’ expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through
     To meet their dead, wi’ flichterin noise and glee. 
     His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonilie,
     His clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie’s smile,
     The lisping infant, prattling on his knee,
     Does a’ his weary kiaugh and care beguile,
     And makes him quite forget his labour and his toil.

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

     With joy unfeign’d, brothers and sisters meet,
     And each for other’s weelfare kindly speirs: 
     The social 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 and her shears,
     Gars auld claes look amaist as weel’s the new;
     The father mixes a’ wi’ admonition due.

     Their master’s and their mistress’ command,
     The younkers a’ are warned to obey;
     And mind their labours wi’ an eydent hand,
     And ne’er, tho’ out o’ sight, to jauk or play;
     “And O! be sure to fear the Lord alway,
     And 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 that sought the Lord aright.”

     But hark! a rap comes gently to the door;
     Jenny, wha kens the meaning o’ the same,
     Tells how a neibor lad came 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 hafflins is afraid to speak;
     Weel-pleased the mother hears, it’s nae wild, worthless rake.

     Wi’ kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben;
     A strappin 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’ and sae grave,
     Weel-pleas’d to think her bairn’s respected like the lave.