Alexander Anderson

Rab Comes Hame

Was that a knock? Wha can it be?
 I hirple to the door;
A buirdly chiel' is stan'in' there,
 I never saw afore.
He tak's a lang, lang look at me,
 An' in his kindly een
A something lies I canna name,
 That somewhere I ha'e seen.

I bid him ben; he tak's a chair,
 My heart loups up wi' fricht,
For he sits doon as John wad do
 When he cam' hame at nicht.
He spreads baith han's upon his knees,
 But no' ae word he speaks;
Yet I can see the big, roun' tears
 Come happin' doon his cheeks.

Then a' at ance his big, strong airms
 Are streekit out to me—
"Mither, I'm Rab, come hame at last,
 An' can ye welcome me?"
"O, Rab!"—my airms are roun' his neck—
 "The Lord is kind indeed;"
Then hunker doon, an' on his knees
 I lay my auld grey heid.

"Hoo could ye bide sae lang frae me,
 Thae weary, weary years,
An' no' ae word—but I maun greet,
 My heart is fu' o' tears;
It does an' auld, frail body guid,
 An' oh! it's unco sweet.
To see ye there, though through my tears,
 Sae I maun ha'e my greet.

"Your faither's lang since in his grave
 Within the auld kirkyaird,
Jamie an' Tam they lie by him—
 They werena to be spared;
An' I was left to sit my lane
 To think on what had been,
An' wussin' only for the time
 To come an' close my een.

"But noo ye're back, I ken fu' weel
 That no' a fremit han'
Will lay me, when my time comes roun',
 Beside my ain gudeman."
Noo, wad it be a sin to ask
 O' Him that rules aboon,
To gi'e me yet a year or twa
 Afore I cuddle doon?