Without a friend to tak’ her part,[1]
Or banish sorrow frae her heart:
She deemed, when measurin’, Johnny’s mind,
Her bairn mith still a father find;
So had compassion on the lad,
An’ was gudewife o’ Gowan fau’d!
A happy change there soon took place,
John shawed mair smeddum in his face;
Looked younger like by ha’f a score,
Than he had done for years before:
On Sundays, i’ the lang Kirk-loan,
The fint a chiel’ was drest like John,
Fu’ weel redd up, frae tap to tae,
His very shoon as black’s a slae.
Although their mailin’ was but scanty,
In warld’s gear they grew fu’ canty;
Love brough: them twa three thumpin’ childer,
They baith grew rich in bairns an’ silder.
An’ Mr. Preses, had you seen
Their canty house, sae trig and clean;
The blithesome looks that love bestowed,
The health on ilka cheek that glowed;
Your prayer wad been, (wi’ heart fu’ warm,)
‘A Widow’s love, and rural farm!’
- ↑ Macniell.
