A waur ane nor the auld.

And, bedded, 'twixt the nicht an' day,
Yest're'en, I couldna bide
For thinkin', thinkin' as I lay
O' the wean that lies outside.

O, mickle licht to me was gie'n
To reach my bairn's abode,
But heaven micht blast a mither's een
And her feet wad find the road.

The kirkyaird loan alang the brae
Was choked wi' brier and whin,
A' i' the dark the stanes were grey
As wraiths when I gae'd in.

The wind cried frae the western airt
Like warlock tongues at strife,
But the hand o' fear hauds aff the he'rt
That's lost its care for life.

I sat me lang upon the green,
A stanethraw frae the kirk,
And syne a licht shone dim between
The shaws o' yew and birk.

'Twas na the wildfire's flame that played
Alang the kirkyaird land,
It was a band o' bairns that gae'd