Poems by Robert Nicoll :: :: University of Virginia Library

I winna sing o' bluidy deeds an' waefu' war's alarms;
For glancin' swords an' prancin' steeds, for me possess nae charms;
But I will sing o' happiness which fireside bosoms feel,
While listenin' to the birrin' soun' o' Scotland's Spinnin'-wheel.

The Spinnin'-wheel! the Spinnin'-wheel! the very name is dear;
It minds me o' the winter nichts, the blithest o' the year;
O' cozie hours in hamely ha's, while frozen was the wiel
In ilka burn,—while lasses sang by Scotland's Spinnin'-wheel.

It minds me o' the happy time, when, in our boyish glee,
At barley-bracks, we laughin' chased ilk kimmer we could see,
Or danced, while loud the bagpipes rang, the Highland foursum reel:—
There's naething dowie brought to mind by Scotland's Spinnin'-wheel.

The auld wife by the ingle sits, an' draws her cannie thread:
It hauds her baith in milk an' meal, an' a' thing she can need:

An' gleesome scenes o' early days upo' her spirit steal,
Brought back to warm her wither'd heart by Scotland's Spinnin'-wheel!

O! there is gladsome happiness, while round the fire are set
The younkers,—when ahint the backs a happy pair are met,
Wha wi' a silent kiss o' love their blessed paction seal,
While sittin' in their truth beside auld Scotland's Spinnin'-wheel!

O! weel I lo'e the blackbird's sang in spring-time o' the year;
O! weel I lo'e the cushat's croon, in merry May to hear;
But o' the sounds o' love and joy, there's nane I lo'e sae weel—
There's nane sae pleasant as the birr o' Scotland's Spinnin'-wheel.