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Wee Willie Winkie
Runs through the town,
Up stairs and down stairs
In his night gown,
Tapping at the window,
Crying at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed,
For it's now ten o'clock?"
"Hey! Willie Winkie,
Are you coming then?
The cat's singing Purrie
To the sleeping hen,
The dog is lying on the floor,
And does not even peep;
But here's a wakeful laddie
That will not fall asleep."
Anything but sleep, you rogue!
Glowring like the moon!
Rattling in an iron jug
With an iron spoon,
Rumbling, tumbling all about,
Crowing like a cock,
Screaming like I don't know what,
Waking sleeping folk.
"Hey! Willie Winkie,
Can't you keep him still?
Wriggling off a body's knee
Like a very eel,
Pulling at the cat's ear,
As she drowsy hums,—
Heigh, Willie Winkie,
See! There he comes!"
Wearied is the mother
That has a restless wean,
A wee, stumpy bairnie
Heard whene'er he's seen—
That has a battle aye with sleep
Before he'll close an e'e;
But a kiss from off his rosy lips
Gives strength anew to me.
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