9
Jean, at first, took little heed o’
Weekly clubs ’mang three or four;
Thought, kind soul! that Will had need o’
Heartsome hours when wark was owre.
But when now that nightly meetings
Sat and drank frae six till twa—
When she found that hard-earned gettings
Now on drink were thrown awa’.
Saw her Will, wha ance sae cheerie
Raise ilk morning wi’ the lark,
Now grown useless, dowf, and sweer aye
To look near his farm or wark;
Saw him tine his manly spirit,
Healthy bloom, and sprightly e’e;
And, o’ love and hame grown wearit,
Nightly frae his family flee—
Wha could blame her heart’s complaining?
Wha condemn her sorrows meek?
Or the tears that now ilk e’ening
Bleached her lately crimsoned cheek;
Will, wha lang had rued and swithered,
(Aye ashamed o’ past disgrace),
Marked the roses as the withered
Fast on Jeanie’s lovely face.
But, alas! when habit’s rooted,
Few hu’e pith the root to pu’;
Will resolves were aye nonsuited—
Promised aye, but aye got fu';
Aye at first at the convening.
.
Moralised on what was right;
Yet owre clavers entertaining.
Dozed and drank till I rud daylight
.
