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wee allan.
Quick it caught the maister's glances,
"What's that book?" he speered fu' keen,
For, though saft, as sharp as laneces,
On ilk object fell his een.
"What's that book?" he speered fu' keen,
For, though saft, as sharp as laneces,
On ilk object fell his een.
"'Tis a gift my mither gied me—
'Tis a Bible," Allan said,
"Which to read ilk morn she bade me,
An' ilk nicht I gaed to bed."
"'Twas a pious, wise direction,
Have you followed it, my lad?"
Allan's een brimmed wi' affection's
Tear draps, as he said he had.
'Tis a Bible," Allan said,
"Which to read ilk morn she bade me,
An' ilk nicht I gaed to bed."
"'Twas a pious, wise direction,
Have you followed it, my lad?"
Allan's een brimmed wi' affection's
Tear draps, as he said he had.
"Good's that guarantee—I trust it;
Boy, the clerkship's thine to-night,
For where conduct is adjusted
By that standard, all is right.
Where the heart a mother's holy
Admonitions can revere,
Where that sacred book is solely
Made the guide o' life's career,
Boy, the clerkship's thine to-night,
For where conduct is adjusted
By that standard, all is right.
Where the heart a mother's holy
Admonitions can revere,
Where that sacred book is solely
Made the guide o' life's career,
'Nought but good may be expected,
Confidence and trust increase,
And you'll joy to have selected
Wisdom's flow'ry paths of peace."
Allan thocht his senses leavin',
Turned as white as ony sheet,—
Tae his mouth his tongue was cleavin',
Felt he could do nought but greet.
Confidence and trust increase,
And you'll joy to have selected
Wisdom's flow'ry paths of peace."
Allan thocht his senses leavin',
Turned as white as ony sheet,—
Tae his mouth his tongue was cleavin',
Felt he could do nought but greet.
