The Book of Scottish Song/Up in the morning early
Up in the morning early.
[The tune of "Up In the morning early" is one of the oldest of our Scottish airs. From an anecdote given in Sir John Hawkins' History of Music, it appears to have been a favourite of Queen Mary's, the consort of William III., and Purcell, the distinguished composer, adapted the bass part for the birth-day song on the queen for the year 1692, beginning,
"May her bright example chase
Vice in troops out of the land."
Before this, however, John Hilton, in 1652, published the tune as the third voice to what is called a "Northern Catch" for three voices, beginning,
"I'se gae with thee, my sweet Peggy."
Gay adopts the tune for one of his songs in the Beggar's Opera. From the opening words of the old song,
"Cold and raw the wind does blaw,
Up in the morning early,"
the air is sometimes called "Cold and raw."—We give here two versions of "Up in the morning early," the first by Burns, with the exception of the chorus, which is old; the second by John Hamilton, a musicseller in Edinburgh, who died in 1814. It is a pity that the name of the old poet, who originally had the boldness to avow publicly his dislike of early rising, has not come down to posterity.]
I.
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!
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!
The birds sit cbittering 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, &c.
II.
Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south;
The drift is drifting sairly;
The sheep are cowrin' in the heuch :
O! sirs, it's winter fairly.
Now up in the mornin's no for me,
Up in the mornin' early;
I'd rather gae supperless to my bed,
Than rise in the morning early.
Loud roars the blast amang the woods,
And tirls the branches barely;
On hill and house hear how it thuds!
The frost is nipping sairly.
Now up in the mornin's no for me,
Up in the mornin' early,
To sit a' nicht wad better agree,
Than rise in the mornin' early.
The sun peeps owre yon southland hills,
Like ony timorous carlie,
Just blinks a wee, then sinks again;
And that we find severely.
Now up in the mornin's no for me,
Up in the mornin' early;
When snaw blaws in at the chimley cheek,
Wha'd rise in the mornin' early?
Nae linties lilt on hedge or bush:
Poor things, they suffer sairly;
In cauldrife quarters a' the nicht;
A' day they feed but sparely.
Now up in the mornin's no for me,
Up in the mornin' early;
A pennyless purse I wad rather dree
Than rise in the mornin' early.
A cosie house and canty wife,
Aye keep a body cheerly;
And pantries stowed wi' meat and drink,
They answer unco rarely.
But up in the morning—na, na, na!
Up in the mornin' early!
The gowans maun glent on bank and brae,
When I rise in the mornin' early.