I'd rather gae supperless to my bed,
Than rise in the morning early.
Loud rairs the blast amang the woods,
The branches tirling barely,
Amang the chimley taps it thuds,
And frost is nippin sairly.
Now up in the morning's no' for me,
Up in the morning early;
To sit a' the night I'd rather agree,
Than rise in the morning early.