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 master’s and their mistress’s command
    The younkers[27] a’ are warned to obey;
  And mind their labors wi’ an eydent[28] hand,
    And ne’er, though out o’ sight, to jauk[29] or play: 
  “And O! be sure to fear the Lord alway, 50
    And mind your duty, duly, morn and night;
  Lest in temptation’s path ye gang[30] 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; 55
Jenny, wha kens[31] the meaning o’ the same,
Tells how a neebor[32] 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; 60
With heart-struck, anxious care, inquires his name,
While Jenny hafflins[33] is afraid to speak;
Weel pleased the mother hears, it’s nae[34]
wild, worthless rake.