Page:Old maid and widow, or, The widow the best wife.pdf/18

An’ now, a Widow, mild an’ meek,
Fresh roses budded on her cheek;
A cheerfu’ smile play’d round her mou’;
Twa twinklin’ een o’ bonny blue,
Glanced on a bairnie by her side,
The pledge o’ love— and Mary’s pride.
Such was the mistress o the biggin’,
That sheltered John aneath its riggin’:
The ingle bleezin’— hostess cheery,
Wi’ bread an’ cheese, he did na weary;
But thought himsel’ for anes sae right,
He wish’d the storm to last a’ night,
His wish was vain— the weather cleared;
Right laith to rise, he hameward steered;
Crap to his bed— the lang night dreamin’,
An’ a’ the subject Mary Fleemin’!
For aught lang days, he thought about her,
Syne fand he coudna live without her—
Gae’d back, an’ tald his waefu’ smart,
With offer, baith of hand and heart.
The Widow had a gentle nature,
An’ wadna wranged a livin’ creature;
The mair she mused on Willie gane,
She fand hersel’ the mair alane;