'The puir auld folk at home, ye mind, <br />Are frail and failing sair; <br />And weel I ken they'd miss me, lad, <br />Gin I come hame nae mair. <br />The grist is out, the times are hard, <br />The kine are only three; <br />I canna leave the auld folk now. <br />We'd better bide a wee. <br /> <br /> <br />'I fear me sair they're failing baith; <br />For when I sit apart, <br />They talk o' Heaven so earnestly, <br />It well nigh breaks my heart. <br />So, laddie, dinna urge me now, <br />It surely winna be; <br />I canna leave the auld folk yet. <br />We'd better bide a wee.'<br /><br />Louisa May Alcott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bide-a-wee/
