Robert Nicoll

The Spinnin'-Wheel

I WINNA sing o' bluidy deeds an' waefu' war's alarms;
For glancin' swords an' prancin' steeds, for me possess nae
        charms;
But I will sing o' happiness which fireside bosoms feel,
While listenin' to the birrin' soun' o' Scotland's
        spinnin'-wheel.

The spinnin'-wheel ! the spinnin'-wheel! the very name is
        dear;
It minds me o' the winter nichts, the blithest o' the year;
O' cozie hours in hamely ha's, while frozen was the wiel
In ilka burn,—while lassies sang by Scotland's
        spinnin'-wheel.

It minds me o' the happy time, when, in our boyish glee,
At barley-bracks, we laughin' chased ilk kimmer we could
        see,
Or danced, while loud the bagpipes rang, the Highland
        foursum reel;
There's naething dowie brought to mind by Scotland's
        spinnin'-wheel.

The auld wife by the ingle sits, an' draws her cannie thread:
It hauds her baith in milk an' meal, an' a' thing she can need:
An' gleesome scenes o' early days upon her spirit steal,
Brought back to warm her wither'd heart by Scotland's
        spinnin'-wheel.

O! there is gladsome happiness, while round the fire are set
The younkers,—when ahint the backs a happy pair are met,
Wha wi' a silent kiss o' love their blessed paction seal,
While sittin' in their truth beside auld Scotland's
        spinnin'-wheel.

O! weel I lo'e the blackbird's sang in spring-time o' the year;
O! weel I We the cushat's croon, in merry May to hear;
But o' the sounds o' love and joy, there's nane I lo'e sae weel—
There's nane sae pleasant as the birr o' Scotland's
        spinnin'-wheel.