And maun I lanely spin the tow, And ca' the weary wheel,For cauld they lie,--where do they lie, The winsome and the leil?
Och hon! Och hon! my blithe gudeman Lies deep aneath the wave,The Lord that made us frae the dust I thought had power to save.
My Willie!--he lay on my breast. Wi' mercy on his e'en,--Can I forget the bonnie bairn That milket me yestreen?
Cauld was the coal I had to blaw When Robin sank at sea,For he but left the widow's hope, A wee, wee bairn wi' me!
Wi' eydent hand and eye o' woe I ettled night and day;And when the Lord forgot our need We grat, and tried to pray.
Och hon! Och hon! he is awa, My Willie he is gone;Oh, is he waff in some far land? But God's good will be done.
May be he's in the morning star, That glints its sheen sae clear,The Lord be praised,--he'll never ken His helpless mother's fear.
I'm auld and frail, my basin's toom, An almous I maun quest, --Help me, sweet Death! to the kirkyard, The holy place of rest!
