" My wee bit helpless callant! oh, that look I canna bear!
Ye are seeking for a smile, an' I gie ye but a tear;
For oh! your daddie's heart wi' grief is unco sair oppress'd,
While ye are lying faulded to your minnie's beating breast. "

" Come, come, cheer up, my Johnnie, man, an' tak ye heart frae me,
I'll keep awa the saut, saut tear that bleers your kindly ee;
We're puir short-sighted mortals, sae let's aye hope for the best,
An' bury a' your cares an' fears within your wifie's breast. "

" In vain ye strive to cheer my heart, my kind an' gentle dame,
When poortith's dark and dreary cluds are low'rin' ower our hame;
I canna get a stroke o' wark — oh, sair, sair is the test!
An' whiles, God help me! cruel thoughts rise swelling in my breast. "

" Hoot toot, awa, my Johnnie, man, why wad ye fret an' mourn?
Although the times are hard e'ennow, they soon may tak a turn;
Be thankfu' for the mercies past, Heaven still will mak us blest, —
E'en now a daw of hope is rising in your wifie's breast. "

And hark! a round, full manly voice shouts through the cottage-door,
" Hallo! Jock, lad, the laird's come hame — there's wark for years in store; "
The father started till his feet, an' wife an' wean caress'd, —
He felt that Heaven had a shrine within his wifie's breast.