Page:Braes of Balquither.pdf/5

 Where grows the Shilela, &c. May the cons of the Thames, the Tweed, and the Shannon, Drub the foes that dare land in our confines a cannon, United and happy at loyalty's shrine, May the rose and the Thistle long flourish and twine Round the sprig of Shilela and Shamrock so green.

C blaws the wind frae east to wast, The drift is driving fairly; Sae loud and shill’s I hear the blast, I’m sure its winter fairly.

Up in the morning’s no for me, Up in the morning early, When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw. I’m sure it’s winter fairly.

The birds sit chittering in the storm, A’ day they fare but sparely, And lang’s the night from e’en to morn, I’m sure it’s winter fairly. Up in the morning’s &c.