Oh! happy is the mither o' ilk little pet,
Who has a happy faither by the ingle set,
Wi' ae wee tottum sleepin' 'neath its mither's ee,
Anither tottum creepin' up its faither's knee.
Aye rockin', rockin', aye rockin' ree,
Pu'ing at his stockin', climbin' up his knee.

Although our wee bit biggin' there be few who ken,
Beneath our theekit riggin', bien 's the but and ben;
Although about the creepy bairnies canna gree,
They cuddle—when they're sleepy, on their faither's knee.
They're aye wink, winkin', wi' the sleepy ee,
Or aye jink, jinkin', round their faither's knee.

Although the sun o' simmer scarce glints through the bole,
Oh! kindly is the glimmer o' our candle coal;
And bright the rays o' glory stream frae heaven hie,
When gude grandsire hoary bends his aged knee;
Baith the parents kneelin' by their totts sae wee—
Holy is the feeling offer'd on the knee.

I ferlie gin in palace, or in lordly ha',
Their hearts are a' as hale, as in our cot sae sma'—
Gin the Royal Mither can her lassies see,
Cuddlin' their wee brithers on their faither's knee?—
What to her kind bosie are her kingdoms three,
Unless her totts are cosie on their faither's knee?