Up in the Morning Early
Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west,The drift is driving sairly;Sae loud and shill’s I hear the blast—I’m sure it’s winter fairly.
Chorus.—Up in the morning’s no for me,Up in the morning early;When a’ the hills are covered wi’ snaw,I’m sure it’s winter fairly.
The birds sit chittering in the thorn,A’ day they fare but sparely;And lang’s the night frae e’en to morn—I’m sure it’s winter fairly.Up in the morning’s, &c.
How Long And Dreary Is The Night
How long and dreary is the night,When I am frae my dearie!I sleepless lie frae e’en to morn,Tho’ I were ne’er so weary:I sleepless lie frae e’en to morn,Tho’ I were ne’er sae weary!
When I think on the happy daysI spent wi’ you my dearie:And now what lands between us lie,How can I be but eerie!And now what lands between us lie,How can I be but eerie!
How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,As ye were wae and weary!It wasna sae ye glinted by,When I was wi’ my dearie!It wasna sae ye glinted by,When I was wi’ my dearie!