WILLIE WINKIE
WEE WILLIE WINKIE
rins through the toon,
Up stairs an doon
stairs in his nicht-gown,
Tirlin' at the window,
crying at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed,
for it's now ten o'clock?"
"Hey, Willie Winkie,
are ye comin' ben?
The cat's singin' grey
thrums to the sleepin hen,
The dog's speldert on
the floor and disnae gie a cheep,
But here's a waukrif laddie
that wanna fa' asleep."
Onything but sleep, you rogue,
glow'rin like the moon,
Rattlin' in the airn jug
wi' an airn spoon,
Rumblin', tumblin' roon about
crawin' like a cock,
Skirlin' like a kenna-what,
waukenin' sleepin' folk.
"Hey, Willie Winkie,
the weans in a creel,
Wamblin' aff a bodie's knee
like a verra eel,
Ruggin' at the cat's lug and
rauelin' a' her thrums --
Hey, Willie Winkie,
see, there he comes!"
Wearit is the mither
that has a stoorie wean,
A wee, stumpie, stousie,
that canna rin his lane,
That has battle aye wi'
sleep afore he 'll close an e',
But a kiss frae aff his
rosy lips gives strength anew to me.
WEE WILLIE WINKIE
rins through the toon,
Up stairs an doon
stairs in his nicht-gown,
Tirlin' at the window,
crying at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed,
for it's now ten o'clock?"
"Hey, Willie Winkie,
are ye comin' ben?
The cat's singin' grey
thrums to the sleepin hen,
The dog's speldert on
the floor and disnae gie a cheep,
But here's a waukrif laddie
that wanna fa' asleep."
Onything but sleep, you rogue,
glow'rin like the moon,
Rattlin' in the airn jug
wi' an airn spoon,
Rumblin', tumblin' roon about
crawin' like a cock,
Skirlin' like a kenna-what,
waukenin' sleepin' folk.
"Hey, Willie Winkie,
the weans in a creel,
Wamblin' aff a bodie's knee
like a verra eel,
Ruggin' at the cat's lug and
rauelin' a' her thrums --
Hey, Willie Winkie,
see, there he comes!"
Wearit is the mither
that has a stoorie wean,
A wee, stumpie, stousie,
that canna rin his lane,
That has battle aye wi'
sleep afore he 'll close an e',
But a kiss frae aff his
rosy lips gives strength anew to me.