Th C S N h（1 / 5）

the tter&039;s saturday night

scribed to r aiken, esq, of ayr

let not abition ock their eful toil,

their holy joys, and desty obscure;

nor grandeur hear, with a disdaful sile,

the short and siple annals of the poor

gray

y lov&039;d, y honour&039;d, uch respected friend!

no rcenary bard his hoa pays;

with honest pride, i srn each selfish end,

y dearest ed, a friend&039;s estee and praise:

to you i sg, siple sttish ys,

the lowly tra life&039;s seester&039;d scene,

the native feelgs strong, the guileless ways,

what aiken a tta would have been;

ah! tho&039; his worth unknown, far happier there i ween!

noveber chill bws loud wi&039; angry sugh;

the short&039;ng ter-day is near a close;

the iry beasts retreatg frae the pleugh;

the bck&039;ng tras o&039; craws to their repose:

the toil-worn tter frae his bour goes,—

this night his weekly oil is at an end,

llects his spades, his attocks, and his hoes,

hopg the orn ease and rest to spend,

and weary, o&039;er the oor, his urse does haward bend

at length his lonely t appears view,

beneath the shelter of an ad tree;

th&039; expectant wee-thgs, toddl, stacher through

to et their dead, wi&039; flichter noise and glee

his wee bit gle, blk bonilie,

his clean hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie&039;s sile,

the lispg fant, prattlg on his knee,

does a&039; his weary kiaugh and care beguile,

and akes hi ite fet his bour and his toil

belyve, the elder bairns e drappg ,

at service out, aang the farrs roun&039;;

ca&039; the pleugh, herd, tentie r

a cannie errand to a neibor town:

their eldest hope, their jenny, woan-grown,

youthfu&039; bloo-love sparklg her e&039;e—

es ha, perhaps to shew a braw new gown,

or deposite her sair-won penny-fee,

t