On a Cold Morning

Up in the Morning Early

Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west,
   The drift is driving sairly;
Sae loud and shrill’s I hear the blast,
   I’m sure it’s winter fairly.

Up in the morning’s no for me,
   Up in the morning early;
When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw,
   I’m sure its 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 no for me,
   Up in the morning early;
When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw,
   I’m sure its winter fairly.

~  Poem by R. Burns