Up In The Morning Early

A poem by Robert Burns

Tune - "Cold blows the wind."


Chorus.

Up in the morning's no for me,
Up in the morning early;
When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

I.

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

II.

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 no for me,
Up in the morning early;
When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

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