Page:Seraphim (1).pdf/14

 Out cam the wives a' wi' a phrase,

And wished the lasses happy days,

And muckle thought they o' their claise,

Especially the breast-knots.

Singing, hey the bonnie, &c.





blaws the win' frae north to south,

And drift is driving sairly?

The sheep are couring i' the heugh,

O, sirs! it's winter fairly.

Now up in the morning's no for me,

Up in the morning early?

I'd rather gang supperless to my bed,

Than rise in the morning early.

Rude rairs the blast amang the woods,

The branches tirlin barely?

Amang the chimley taps it thuds,

And frost is nippin sairly.

Now up in the morning's no for me,

Up in the morning early?

To sit a' night I'd rather agree,

Than rise in the morning early.

The sun peeps o'er you southlan hill,

Like any timorous carlie?

Just blinks awee then sinks again,

And that we find severely,

Now up in the morning's no for me,

Up in the morning early;

When sna' blaws into the chimley cheek,

Wha'd rise in the morning early.

Nae linties lilt on hedge or bush,

Poor things, they suffer sairly?

In cauldrife quarters a' the night,

A' day they feed but sparely.

Now up in the morning's no for me,

Up in the morning early?

What fate can be war in the winter time,

Than rise in the morning early.