This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1875 Excerpt: ...fondly reared Lay mouldering far away. But I trust we'll meet when from the tombs God will his people bring, To where an endless summer blooms, And one perennial spring. WHAT I WOULD LIKE HEN first I thought upon a wife, An' twenty years did speel; Thus went my plan of passing life Wi' ane I liket weel: --Near to some low romantic glen, A burnie rinnin clear, Where nought but nature lets us ken The circlin o' the year. High o'er the linn the eagle looks, The water maks a din; Syne gently windin through the rocks, It forms a level plain. Here in a crook my dwellin stands, Fu' loun' forenent the sun, Amang some trees an' spreadin wands, Where busy wild bees bum. A little park surrounds the house, Where twa-three pets do feed; A highland cow, an' pony crouse, That rins wi' canty speed. Sax hens, a cock, a singin bird, A canny colly too. A sleekit cat, the mice to curb, But fient a lang-nos'd sow. A but, a ben, an eight-day clock; Or if I'm no sae braw--A watch, that weel her rounds can trot Hings chickin on the wa'. Wi' plenty books, a canny wife, That weel her bairns can breed; An' little cause for care or strife, Or jealousy to dread. When gentle Spring comes smirkin in, An' flowers begin to kythe. Green woods do ring wi' birds that sing, An' ilka thing looks blythe. My garden snug at the house end, When day-light decks the skies, Does call aloud my willing hand, To help her fruits to rise. There do I work till nine o'clock. 'Guidewife's the breakfast ready?' The wee things to the door do trot, Crying ' Mother there's my daddy.' Then o'er the meal, whate'er it be, Smiles every canty face; Which I behold wi' conscious ee, An' solemn say the grace. When summer comes wi' scorchin suns An' dries the thirsty braes, Then on the green my wine runs, Fu' busy bleachin..