THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE COTTEirS SATURDAY NIGHT. Al PUBLISHERS' PREFACE, In once more sending forth to the world of liappy homes, this noblest Poem of " the greatest Poet that ever sprang from the bosom of the people," tlie Publishers tind their occasion and excuse — if such could be ever needed — partly in the fact, that it has never before been detached from the collected Works of Burns to receive those adornments of Art which have been so bounti- fidly and lovingly bestowed on Gray's " Elegy," Goldsmith's "Deserted Village," Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner," Thomson's " Seasons," and other kindred treasures of our English verse ; but chiefly in the cordial enthusiasm with whicii artist, engraver, printer, and binder have lent their happiest skill to present it in attire liarinonious with its spiritual beauty, and worthy of its essential preciousness. J» \DsigMDA:n li^jji ::;i^ Let not Amliitidii mock thoir useful toil. Their liomely joys, and destiny obscure; "Nor Grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile, The short but siuipie annals of the Poor. , ^ Geat. j-j Y loved, my honoured, mucli-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 ; What Aiken in a cottage would have been ; Ah ! tliough his wortli unknown, for hapj^ier there, I ween ! November chill blaws'loud wi' anorry suo-li : The sliort'ning winter-clav is near a, close ; The miiy l)easts retreating frac the pleugh ; The bhiek'ning trains o' craws to their repose: The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his rnaltocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in case and n^st to spend. And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward hend. Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher throtign To meet their dad, wf ^ichterin noise an' glee. ,Xft At length liis lonely cot ap}iears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin, stacher through To meet their dad, wi' flichterin noise an' glee. His wee bit ingle, blinkin bonnily, His clean hearth-stane, his tliriftie wifie's smile. The lisping infant prattling on his knee. Does a' his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labour an' liis toil. •1-5 Belyve, the elder bairns cume drapping in, At service out, aniang the fanners roun" ; Some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin A eannie errand to a neebonr town : Their eldest hope, their Jeiniy, woman grown. In youth fu' bloom, love sparkling in her e'e, Comes hame, perhaps, to sliow a Ijraw new gown, Or deposit her sair-won penny-fee, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be. X -='' iff ° -. ' - -'^ -i'i^ ^J© Wi' joy unfeigned, brothers and sisters meet, An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers ; The social honrs, swift- winged, 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 clacs look amaist as weel's the ne^ ; The father mixes a' wi' admonition due. ^ J/. t\r ^..:-> i -^r*^" 'JJ^/C I »■ Their master's an' their mistress's command, The Younkers a' are warned to obey ; An' mind their hibours wi' an eydent hand, An' ne'er, though out o' sight, to jauk or plaj: " An' oh ! be sure to fear the Lord alway, An' mind your duty, duly, morn an' night! Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray, Lnplore His counsel and assisting might : hey 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 neebour lad cam o'er the moor, To do some errands, and convoy her Lame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame » Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek ; Wi' heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name, ' AVhile Jenny halflins is afraid to speak ; Weel pleasecl the mother hears it"s nae wild, worthless rake. '!» Wi' kindly welcome Jenny Inings him ben ; xV strappan youth ; he takes the motlier's eye; Blytlie Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en ; The father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. The youngster's artless lieart o'erflows wi' joy, But blate an' laithfa', scarce can weel behave ; The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy Wiiat makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave ; Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave. "Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, lu ottier's arms breathe out the tender tale. Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the ev'ning gale.' O bappj love ! where love like this is found ! O beart-felt raptures ! bliss be^-ond compare ' I've paced mucli this wearv, mortal round. And sage experience bids me this declare — " If Ileav'n a draught of hcav'nly pleasure sjiaro, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In other s arms breathe out the tender tale. Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the ev'ning gale." 'y^'yr^'A -4© 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 honour, virtue, conscience, all exiled? Is there no pity, no relenting I'utli, Points to the parents fondling o'er tlieir child ? Then paints the ruined maid, and their distraction wild ! m But now the supper crowns tlieir simple board, The healsome parritch, chief o' Scotia's food : The sou^je their only hawkie does afford, That ' Yont the hallan snuo;lv chows her cood : 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, How 'twas a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell. .^lHV: C'?-.v\.''f i^t^*- ~^^M. ->'i, ■:".*!'>'''," .? ^^dfe-'n The clicerfu' supper done, wi' serious face, They, round the ingle, form a circle wide ; Tlie sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride ; His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haflfets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a jjortion with judicious care ; And "Let us worship God !" he says, with .^okniu air. 'rr^'V -^JO They cbaut their artless notes in simple guise ; They tune their hearts. Ly far the noblest aim : Perliaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive Martyrs, worthy of the name ; Or noble Elgin beets the heavnward flame, The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays ; C()nij)arcd with these. Italian trills arc tame ; The tickled ears no heart-felt raptures raise ; Nae unison liae they with our Creator's praise. '■•.■, !■ t ^ ' AilM','] #^lXiir^' ^M^ Ijjj^ The priest-like father reads the sacred page. Tlie 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 ungracions progenj' ; 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 otlicr holv seers tliat tune the sacred lyre. -■■la '% Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme. How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed ; How He, who bore in Heaven the second name, Had not on earth whereon to lay His head : How His first followers and servants sped ; The precepts sage they wrote to many a land : How he, who lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand ; And heard great Bab'lon's doom |)ronounced l)y Heaven's command. .JSt 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 Ijask in uncreated ra^^s, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such societv, vet still more dear ; While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere. * Tope's Windsor Forest. R. B. l^Jgt Compared witli tins, liow poor Keligioii's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's ev'ry grace, except the heart ! The Power, incensed, the pageant will desert, The pompons strain, the sacerdotal stole ; But haply, in some cottage fir apart, May hear, well pleased, the language of the soul And in His book of life the inmates poor enroll The parent-pair their secret li'iina^e pay. And protl'er up to Ileavou liie warm request. Then homeward all take off their sev'ral way ; The youngling cottagers retire to rest : The parent-pair their secret homage ]3ay, And proffer np to Heaven the warm request, 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. :^ y ..v/)'''' From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes lier loved at home, revered 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 heav'nly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind ; What is a lordling's pomp ? a cumbrous load, Diso-uisino; oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined ! O Thou ! who poured the patriotic tide That streamed through Wadace's undaunted heart; Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride, Or nobly die, the second glorious part, (The patriot's God, peculiarly, Thou art, Ilis Friend, Inspirer, Guardian, and Reward !) O never, never, Seotia's realm desert ; But still the patriot, and tlie patriot-bard, In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard ! -4fr;-^ UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 41584 AA 000 366 729 ■J&-