The early morn’ was bricht an’ fair
‘Mid nature’s sweet complexion,
Humanity seem’d never mair
As mutual in affection.
The earth was burstin’ intae bloom,
The burdies intae song;
Dispellin’ a’ man’s self made gloom;
Yae! Rectifyin’ wrong.
Dismayed Phobeen ‘mang winter’s throes,
An’ sair wi’ a’ it’s ills;
Spring had come, auld Phebus rose
Frae ‘mang the Straiton hills.
I plied my usual daily trend
Lik’ nature it is varied;
My body may wae hardship bend,
My soul is seldom wearied.
‘T was on this lovely morn’ in spring
When housewife’s scrub an’ scower,
I ca’d upon a client in fling
Tae sweep a chimney for ‘er.
When mountin’ tae the chimney stack,
I heard a queer commotion;
But nane surprised was I at that,
Gin I heard it often.
‘T was just a feathered freen, I kent
By flappin’ o’ the wings’
Strivin’ hard in it’s ascent
As oot the vent he clim’s.
The jackdaw’ as it proved tae be,
Was no ‘ the least disposed
Tae fraternise the like o’ me,
Tae a nearby roof she closed.