Song—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.

Published in Poems and Songs of Robert Burns

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