Our bairns! the comfort o' our heart
Oh! may they long be spared!
We'll try by them to do our part,
And hope a sure reward.
What better tocher can we gi'e
Than just a taste for hame;
What better heirship, when we die,
Than just an honest name?
To my auld Wife.
[Tune, "Gloomy Winter."]
Our youthfu' days are lang awa',
Past and gane our prime an' a',
And the leafs begun to fa'
Wi' you an' me, my dearie, O!
Spring it does not last for aye,
Summer quickly fleets away,
Syne the flowers do a' decay,
An' sae maun we, my dearie, O!
For we baitb are wearin' auld,
You'r growin' grey, an' I am bauld,
Comin' fast is winter cauld
O' life, to us, my dearie, O!
Twa score o' years ha'e near hand fled,
Sin' we twa thegither wed,
Our share o' joys an' waes we've had,
My auld, my faithfu' dearie, O!
Contented on through life let's pass,
Cure ne'er maks a sorrow less,
Still ye are my ain dear lass,
My auld, my faithfu' dearie, O!
Ne'er let you or me complain,
Friends o' yours and mine are gane,
Wha the married life began,
Wi' you an' me, my dearie, O!
Whilst we twa aye spared ha'e been,
Till our bairnie's bairns we've seen,
Wha some day wi' divets green
May see us hap'd, my dearie, O!
Time on wing mak's nae delay,
Fast approaching is the day,
When they doun us baith will lay
In the cauld grave, my dearie, O!
When we meet that dreaded hour,
May death's sting ha'e tint its power,
Syne we'll flit to blissfu' bower
To joys that ne'er shall wearie, O!
Handsome Nell.
[Tune, "I am a man unmarried."—"The following composition," says Burns, in his Commonplace Book, "was the first of my performances, and done at an early period of my life, when my heart glowed with honest warm simplicity, unacquainted and uncorrupted with the ways of a wicked world. The performance is, indeed, very puerile and silly, but I am always pleased with it, as it recalls to my mind those happy days when my heart was yet honest, and my tongue was sincere. The subject of it was a young girl, who really deserved all the praises I have bestowed on her. I not only had this opinion of her then—but I actually think so still, now that the spell is long since broken, and the enchantment at an end."—"This ballad," says Lockhart, "though characterised by Burns as a very puerile and silly performance, contains here and there lines of which he need hardly have been ashamed at any period of his life."]
O, once I loved a bonnie lass,
Ay, and I love her still;
And whilst that vurtue warms my breast
I'll love my handsome Nell.
As bonnie lasses I ha'e seen,
And mony full as braw,
But for a modest gracefu' mien
The like I never saw.
A bonnie lass, I will confess,
Is pleasant to the e'e,
But without some better qualities
She's no a lass for me.
But Nelly's looks are blithe and sweet,
And what is best of a',
Her reputation is complete,
And fair without a flaw.
She dresses aye sae clean and neat,
Both decent and genteel;
And then there's something in her gait
Gars ony dress look weel.
