265 And should the youngest raise its lisping voice, The careful mother, ever on the watch, And ever pleased with what her husband says, Gives it a gentle tap upon the fingers, Or stops its ill-timed prattle with a kiss.
270 The soldier next, but not unask'd, begins His tale of war and blood. They gaze upon him, And almost weep to see the man so poor, So bent and feeble, helpless and forlorn, Who has undaunted stood the battle's brunt 275 While roaring cannons shook the quaking earth, And bullets hiss'd round his defenseless head. Thus passes quickly on the evening hour, Till sober folks must needs retire to rest; Then all break up, and, by their several paths, 2so Hie homeward, with the evening pastime cheer'd Far more, belike, than those who issue forth From city theatre's gay scenic show, Or crowded ball-room's splendid moving maze. But where the song and story, joke and gibe,
285 So lately circled, what a solemn change In little time takes place! The sound of psalms, by mingled voices raised
Of young and old, upon the night air borne, Haply to some benighted traveler,
290 Or the late parted neighbors on their way, A pleasing notice gives, that those whose sires In former days on the bare mountain's side, In deserts, heaths, and caverns, praise and prayer, At peril of their lives, in their own form
295 Of covenanted worship offered up, In peace and safety in their own quiet home
4. A race, from the bride's former home to the bridegroom's house, run by the young men attending a country wedding.
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22 0 / JOANNA BAILLIE
Are?(as in quaint and modest phrase is termed)
Engaged now in evening exercise
But long accustom'd to observe the weather,
300 The farmer cannot lay him down in peace Till he has look'd to mark what bodes the night. He lifts the latch, and moves the heavy door, Sees wreaths of snow heap'd up on every side, And black and dismal all above his head.
305 Anon the northern blast begins to rise; He hears its hollow growling from afar, Which, gathering strength, rolls on with doubled might, And raves and bellows o'er his head. The trees Like pithless saplings bend. He shuts his door,
310 And, thankful for the roof that covers him, Hies him to bed.
1790
A Mother to Her Waking Infant
Now in thy dazzled half-oped eye, Thy curled nose and lip awry, Up-hoisted arms and noddling head, And little chin with crystal spread,
5 Poor helpless thing! what do I see, That I should sing of thee?
From thy poor tongue no accents come, Which can but rub thy toothless gum: Small understanding boasts thy face,
10 Thy shapeless limbs nor step nor grace: A few short words thy feats may tell, And yet I love thee well.
When wakes the sudden bitter shriek,
And redder swells thy little cheek;
15 When rattled keys thy woes beguile, And through thine eyelids gleams the smile, Still for thy weakly self is spent Thy little silly1 plaint.
But when thy friends are in distress, 20 Thou'lt laugh and chuckle ne'ertheless,
5. In the first edition of the Winter Day, nothing a later addition to the poem. They allude to the regarding family worship was mentioned: a great persecutions that, during the 'Killing Times' of the omission, for which I justly take shame to myself. mid-17th century, were endured by the Covenant' The Evening exercise,' as it was called, prevailed ers?Presbyterians who adhered to a Covenant in every house over the simple country parts of the contracted between their congregation and Christ West of Scotland, and I have often heard the sound and who therefore refused to acknowledge the of it passing through the twilight air, in returning Crown's authority over their forms of worship. from a late walk [Baillie's note]. Lines 281-9 8 are 1. Deserving of pity (Scots dialect).
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U P ! QUIT THY BOWER / 22 1 Nor with kind sympathy be smitten, Though all are sad but thee and kitten; Yet puny varlet0 that thou art, Thou twitchest at the heart. rascal 2530 Thy smooth round cheek so soft and warm; Thy pinky hand and dimpled arm; Thy silken locks that scantly peep, With gold tipp'd ends, where circles deep, Around thy neck in harmless grace, So soft and sleekly hold their place, Might harder hearts with kindness fill, And gain our right goodwill. 35Each passing clown0 bestows his blessing, Thy mouth is worn with old wives' kissing; E'en lighter looks the gloomy eye Of surly sense when thou art by; And yet, I think, whoe'er they be, They love thee not like me. peasant 40Perhaps when time shall add a few Short months to thee, thou'lt love me too; And after that, through life's long way, Become my sure and cheering stay; Wilt care for me and be my hold, When I am weak and old. 4550 Thou'lt listen to my Iengthen'd tale, And pity me when I am frail2? But see, the sweepy spinning fly Upon the window takes thine eye. Go to thy little senseless play; Thou dost not heed my lay.? song 1790
Up! quit thy bower1
Up! quit thy bower, late wears the hour; Long have the rooks caw'd round thy tower; On flower and tree, loud hums the bee; The wilding kid2 sports merrily:
5 A day so bright, so fresh, so clear, Shineth when good fortune's near.
Up! lady fair, and braid thy hair, And rouse thee in the breezy air;
