Scotland/Scots > Licht frae the smiddy o' Saunders Dinwuddie

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THE HOMES OF LABOUR.
he looks thin, and blue, and sickly, and hings his
head wi’ ‘wofu’ bevil.’ 0 that ye had a east o’
God’s grace, baith o’ ye !”
“You are a doleful draughtsman, Saunders.
What a picture of fallen human nature. ”
“ Dolefu’, Sir, because it’s true, owertrue. It’s
no the sketch o’ a fireside fancy. Sae I’ll end as
I began, an’ say again — naething, naething
on God’s earth but religion, the gospel o’ the
grace o’ God can raise the poor frae the dunghill
o’ misery an’ set them up amang princes. If our
mechanics an’ labourers cherish the Word o’ God
in their hearts an’ i’ their hames, the cauld an’
dreary desert o’ poverty will soon rejoice an’
blossom as the rose, and the dwellin’ o’ toil will
ring wi’ the melody o’ joy an’ health, Lord pity
an’ bless the workin’ man, an’ keep us frae a’
evil. Guid nicht, Sir.”
“Amen, my friend Saunders. Good night.”