Daytime an’ nicht,
Sun, wind an’ rain;
The lang, cauld licht
O’ the spring months again.
The yaird’s a’ weed,
An’ the fairm’s a’ still –
Wha’ll sow the seed
I’ the field by the lirk o’ the hill?
Prood maun ye lie,
Prood did ye gang;
Auld, auld am I,
But O! life’s lang!
Gaists i’ the air,
Whaups cryin’ shrill,
An’ you nae mair
I’ the field by the lirk o’ the hill –
Aye, bairn, nae mair, nae mair,
I’ the field by the lirk o’ the hill!
