Willie Winkie

EE WILLIE WINKIE rins through WEELWIL Up-stairs and doon-stairs, in his nicht-gown, Tirlin' at the window, cryin' at the lock, "Are the weans in their bed?-for it's now ten o'clock. " Hey, Willie Winkie! are ye comin' ben? The cat's singin' gay thrums to the sleepin' hen, The doug's speldered on the floor, and disna gie a cheep; But here's a waukrife laddie that winna fa' asleep. THE GIANT Onything but sleep, ye rogue! glow'rin' like the moon, Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon, Rumblin' , tumblin', roun' about, crowin' like a cock, Skirlin' like a kenna-what-wauknin' sleepin' folk. Hey, Willie Winkie! the wean's in a creel! Waumblin' aff a body's knee like a vera eel, Ruggin' at the cat's lug, and ravellin' a' her thrumsHey, Willie Winkie!-See, there he comes! Wearie is the mither that has a storie wean, Awee stumpie stoussie that canna rin his lane, That has a battle aye wi' sleep before he'll close an ee; But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me.