O, come awa’, thou hopefu’ year!
A welcome sicht are ye;
Ye’re punctual to a minute, but
I’ve weari’t sair for thee,—
Ye’ll ken I had a craw to pook
Wi’ her that’s gane, yet nae
Back-spangs at parting e’er should mar
The mirth o’ Hogmanay.
I mind when first she stepped owre
The threshold o’ my door,
That joy led ben the blythesome queen,
And hope stept on before;
And thick-an’-threefauld in the trance,
Bright forms strain’d to be near
The glowing hearth, where hope and joy
Stood wi’ the New-year.
The scourin’-things aboon the brace
Were bright as han’s could mak’,
And mony an hour stown frae her sleep,
My wifie they did tak’;
The fire, the floor, the whiten’d wa’s,
The bowls upon the dresser,
Blythe faces, too, and happy hearts
Had welcomes warm to bless her.
My callant then had gat new claes,
So ripe his gather’d glee,
That joy bow’d doon to kiss his lip,
His lip an’ loupin’ e’e;
Atween the breenges o’ his mouth,
Hope tauld him many a story,
An’ pointed forth to simmer days
And a’ their gowan glory.
Aye, youth! loup up an kiss the mou’
O’ rosy lipped joy!
Believe in hope’s most wondrous tales
Whilst thou art yet a boy—
Thy present always be as now,
A merry Hogmanay;
Thy future in ilk comin’ morn
A Happy New-year’s-day!