the seaside village.
71
Sayin, "Respectable lodgin's they ance keepit there,
But I doot theyll no noo, for they're turned unco puir."
"I'm right humble mysel'," was the stranger's reply,
"They'll aiblins admit me—at least I maun try."
He surveyed the abode, sae obscure, yet sae clean,
Wi' its mignionette boxes an' white window screen:
Wae is me for the poortith that struggles to hide
'Yond the decent bit curtain, scarce e'er drawn aside,
A' its misery an' trials, privations an' want,
The garment threadbare, an' the furniture scant:
That shrinks frae the proud warld it fan wud beguile,
W1' belief that dame Fortune still gies it a smile.
'Wi his staff an' his bundle the stranger stepped o'er,
An' murm'rin "This ends it!" knocked soft at the door,
Which was oped by a wifie, wha's dress worn an' thin,
An' care-worn face, spake no o plenty within.
Wha wi' voice saft an' sad as a breeze-waken'd lyre,
In accents respectfu' said, "Sir, your desire?"
"I am come to lodge with you, nay, shake not your head,
That I enter just now, let the word, pray, be said:
For, in truth, what with walking and knocking since morn,
Nor gaining admission, I'm weary and worn."
Wi' a little persuasion, the widow complied,
Wi' an effort o'ercoming her scruples o' pride;
But a deep blush o' shame her wan features suffused
As she led to the chamber by him to be used,
For necessity's fingers had 'maist wed awa'
The plenishin' there, ance sae tidy and braw.
But I doot theyll no noo, for they're turned unco puir."
"I'm right humble mysel'," was the stranger's reply,
"They'll aiblins admit me—at least I maun try."
He surveyed the abode, sae obscure, yet sae clean,
Wi' its mignionette boxes an' white window screen:
Wae is me for the poortith that struggles to hide
'Yond the decent bit curtain, scarce e'er drawn aside,
A' its misery an' trials, privations an' want,
The garment threadbare, an' the furniture scant:
That shrinks frae the proud warld it fan wud beguile,
W1' belief that dame Fortune still gies it a smile.
'Wi his staff an' his bundle the stranger stepped o'er,
An' murm'rin "This ends it!" knocked soft at the door,
Which was oped by a wifie, wha's dress worn an' thin,
An' care-worn face, spake no o plenty within.
Wha wi' voice saft an' sad as a breeze-waken'd lyre,
In accents respectfu' said, "Sir, your desire?"
"I am come to lodge with you, nay, shake not your head,
That I enter just now, let the word, pray, be said:
For, in truth, what with walking and knocking since morn,
Nor gaining admission, I'm weary and worn."
Wi' a little persuasion, the widow complied,
Wi' an effort o'ercoming her scruples o' pride;
But a deep blush o' shame her wan features suffused
As she led to the chamber by him to be used,
For necessity's fingers had 'maist wed awa'
The plenishin' there, ance sae tidy and braw.
