th' expet wee-things, toddlin, stacher through
to meet their dead, wi' flichterin noise and glee.
his wee bit ingle, blinkin bonilie,
his hearth-stane, his thrifty wifie's smile,
the lisping infant, prattling on his knee,
does a' his weary kiaugh and care beguile,
and makes him quite fet his bour and his toil.
belyve, the elder bairns e drapping in,
at service out, amang the farmers roun';
some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin
a ie errand to a neibor town:
their eldest hope, their jenny, woman-grown,
in youthfu' bloom-love
The Cotters Saturday Night(3/16)