Later Poems of Alexander Anderson "Surfaceman": Edited with a Biographical Sketch, by Alexander Brown: A New Edition |
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SING A SANG TO THE BAIRNS. |
 | Later Poems of Alexander Anderson |  |
SING A SANG TO THE BAIRNS.
O, mither, sing a sang to the bairns,
When the nicht-fa' gathers them in;
Wee Jamie oot at his elbows an' knees,
An' Rab half-wat to the skin;
Tam skelpin' aboot wi' his buits flung aff,
An' loupin' wi' a' his micht—
O, mither, sing a sang to the bairns
Ere they cuddle doon for the nicht.
When the nicht-fa' gathers them in;
Wee Jamie oot at his elbows an' knees,
An' Rab half-wat to the skin;
Tam skelpin' aboot wi' his buits flung aff,
An' loupin' wi' a' his micht—
O, mither, sing a sang to the bairns
Ere they cuddle doon for the nicht.
O, croon them a lilt as they hunker roun'
The fire fu' o' daffin' an' glee—
When Jenny, wi' her wee doll in her lap,
Lays her heid against your knee.
She will lilt the same to her ain bit weans,
When your heid is aneath the swaird,
An' ye sleep fu' soun' wi' your kith an' kin,
Where they lie in the auld kirkyaird.
The fire fu' o' daffin' an' glee—
When Jenny, wi' her wee doll in her lap,
Lays her heid against your knee.
She will lilt the same to her ain bit weans,
When your heid is aneath the swaird,
An' ye sleep fu' soun' wi' your kith an' kin,
Where they lie in the auld kirkyaird.
An' Rab, an' Jamie, an' steerin' Tam,
When they a' grow up to be men,
They will wan'er to a' the airts o' the win'
To fecht for their bread an' to fen'.
But aye in their heart, though the faught be sair,
An' the warl' is no' lookin' richt,
They will hear the lilts that ye sang langsyne
Ere they cuddled doon for the nicht.
When they a' grow up to be men,
They will wan'er to a' the airts o' the win'
To fecht for their bread an' to fen'.
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An' the warl' is no' lookin' richt,
They will hear the lilts that ye sang langsyne
Ere they cuddled doon for the nicht.
They are a' roun' your knee, an' their mirth an' glee
Is unco sweet to hear,
An' your heart fills up wi' a mither's pride
As you turn to hide the tear.
There are rough ways yet for their feet to gang,
But, noo, let a' be bricht;
Then sing them a lilt o' the sangs they like
Ere they cuddle doon for the nicht.
Is unco sweet to hear,
An' your heart fills up wi' a mither's pride
As you turn to hide the tear.
There are rough ways yet for their feet to gang,
But, noo, let a' be bricht;
Then sing them a lilt o' the sangs they like
Ere they cuddle doon for the nicht.
| Later Poems of Alexander Anderson | |