The Canongate Burns. Robert Burns

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      Belyve, the elder bairns come drapping in, by-and-by, kids, dropping

      At Service out, amang the Farmers roun’; among, round

      30 Some ca’ the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin work, shepherd, attentively run

      A cannie errand to a neebor town: private, neighbour

      Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman-grown,

      In youthfu’ bloom, Love sparkling in her e’e, eye

      Comes hame, perhaps, to shew a braw new gown, home, show, fine

      35 Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee, sore-, wages

      To help her Parents dear, if they in hardship be.

      With joy unfeign’d, brothers and sisters meet,

      And each for other’s weelfare kindly spiers: welfare, inquires

      The social hours, swift-wing’d, unnotic’d fleet;

      40 Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears. news

      The Parents partial eye their hopeful years;

      Anticipation forward points the view;

      The Mother, wi’ her needle and her sheers, scissors

      Gars auld claes look amaist as weel’s the new; makes old clothes, almost, well

      45 The Father mixes a’ wi’ admonition due.

      Their Master’s and their Mistress’s command

      The youngkers a’ are warned to obey; youngsters all

      And mind their labors wi’ an eydent hand, diligent

      And ne’er, tho’ out o’ sight, to jauk or play: fool around

      50 ‘And O! be sure to fear the LORD always! always

      And mind your duty, duly, morn and night!

      Lest in temptation’s path ye gang astray, go

      Implore His counsel and assisting might:

      They never sought in vain that sought the LORD aright.’

      55 But hark! a rap comes gently to the door;

      Jenny, wha kens the meaning o’ the same. who knows

      Tells how a neebor lad came o’er the moor, neighbour

      To do some errands, and convoy her hame. home

      The wily Mother sees the conscious flame

      60 Sparkle in Jenny’s e’e, and flush her cheek; eye

      With heart-struck anxious care, enquires his name,

      While Jenny hafflins is afraid to speak; almost/partly

      Weel-pleas’d the mother hears, it’s nae wild, no

      worthless Rake.

      With kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben; inside

      65 A strappan youth, he takes the Mother’s eye;

      Blythe Jenny sees the visit’s no ill taen; taken

      The Father cracks of horses, pleughs, and kye. talks, ploughs, cattle

      The youngster’s artless heart o’erflows wi’ joy,

      But blate and laithfu’, scarce can weel behave; shy, hesitating, well

      70 The Mother, wi’ a woman’s wiles, can spy cunning

      What makes the youth sae bashfu’ and sae grave; so

      Weel-pleas’d to think her bairn’s respected like the lave. well-, child’s, the others

      O happy love! where love like this is found:

      O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare!

      75 I’ve pacè d much this weary, mortal round,

      And sage EXPERIENCE bids me this declare —

      ‘If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare,

      One cordial in this melancholy Vale,

      ‘Tis when a youthful, loving, modest Pair,

      80 In other’s arms, breathe out the tender tale

      Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the ev’ning gale.’

      Is there, in human form, that bears a heart —

      A wretch! a villain! lost to love and truth!

      That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art,

      85 Betray sweet Jenny’s unsuspecting youth?

      Curse on his perjur’d arts! dissembling, smoothe!

      Are Honor, Virtue, Conscience, all exil’d?

      Is there no Pity, no relenting Ruth, sorrow

      Points to the Parents fondling o’er their Child?

      90 Then paints the ruin’d Maid, and their distraction wild?

      But now the Supper crowns their simple board,

      The halesome Porritch, chief o’ SCOTIA’S food; wholesome porridge

      The soupe their only Hawkie does afford, drink/milk, cow

      That, ‘yont the hallan snugly chows her cood; beyond, partition, chews

      95 The Dame brings forth, in complimental mood,

      To grace the lad, her weel-hain’d kebbuck, fell; well-matured cheese, tasty

      And aft he’s prest, and aft he ca’s it guid; often, asked, calls, good

      The frugal Wifie, garrulous, will tell, wife

      How ‘twas a towmond auld, sin’ Lint was i’ the bell. 12 months old, flax, flower

      100 The chearfu’ Supper done, wi’ serious face,

      They, round the ingle, form a circle wide;

      The sire turns o’er, wi’ patriarchal grace,

      The big ha’-Bible, ance his Father’s СКАЧАТЬ