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Up In The Morning Early

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

     Chorus.—Up in the morning's no for me,
     Up in the morning early;
     When a' the hills are covered wi' snaw,
     I'm sure it's 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, &c.

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