Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver By William Thom. Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by W. Skinner |
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THE MONITOR'S SONG |
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 | Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver |  |
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THE MONITOR'S SONG
Come Brither bairnies, wan and worn,
And hide ye here frae cauld and scorn;
The blast that tears your weary morn
May fan your warmer day, boys.
And hide ye here frae cauld and scorn;
The blast that tears your weary morn
May fan your warmer day, boys.
We work and wish, and sich and sing,
And bless the couthie hearts that bring
Ae smile to soothe our surly spring;
We'll a' be men when we may, boys!
And bless the couthie hearts that bring
Ae smile to soothe our surly spring;
We'll a' be men when we may, boys!
Your Mither sank before the lave—
Your Father, Sister, sought a grave;
And ye wee bodies, were left to crave
A warl's cauldrife care, boys!
Your Father, Sister, sought a grave;
And ye wee bodies, were left to crave
A warl's cauldrife care, boys!
But now ye'll work, and hope, and sing,
Nor needfu' fear how fate may fling;
The Honey may come ahint the Sting,
And Heaven will send your share, boys!
Nor needfu' fear how fate may fling;
The Honey may come ahint the Sting,
And Heaven will send your share, boys!
Oh! were the heartless here to see
The wrestling tear that fills your e'e,
Your wee, wee Brith'rie, daft wi' glee,
Wi' breast and armies bare, boys!
The wrestling tear that fills your e'e,
Your wee, wee Brith'rie, daft wi' glee,
Wi' breast and armies bare, boys!
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But aft unkent we greet and sing,
And ply the warp and netting string;
Oh! wha would slight that holy thing,
An orphan's trembling prayer, boys?
And ply the warp and netting string;
Oh! wha would slight that holy thing,
An orphan's trembling prayer, boys?
A hundred hearts are heaving here,
That loup to gladness, grief, and fear;
And weel bless they the lips that speir
How orphans fend and fare, boys!
That loup to gladness, grief, and fear;
And weel bless they the lips that speir
How orphans fend and fare, boys!
Oh! blithely work and blithely sing—
There's nane can tell what Time may bring,
Sae freckl'd the feathers that mark his wing,
So changefu' evermair, boys!
There's nane can tell what Time may bring,
Sae freckl'd the feathers that mark his wing,
So changefu' evermair, boys!
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