Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud and shrill’s I hear the blast, 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 its 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 no for me, Up in the morning early; When a’ the hills are cover’d wi’ snaw, I’m sure its winter fairly.
The wintry west extends his blast, And hail and rain does blaw; Or the stormy north sends driving forth The blinding sleet and snaw: While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down, And roars frae bank to brae; And bird and beast in covert rest, And pass the heartless day. The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast, The joyless winter day Let others fear, to me more dear Than all the pride of May: The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul, My griefs it seems to join; The leafless trees my fancy please, Their fate resembles mine! Thou Pow'r Supreme, whose mighty scheme These woes of mine fulfil, Here firm I rest; they must be best, Because they are Thy will! Then all I want - O do Thou grant This one request of mine! - Since to enjoy Thou dost deny, Assist me to resign.
See the code for this project.
A <toby/> project