The Maister sat in the wee cot
hoose
By the Jordan's waters near,
An' the fisherfolk ctushed an'
crooded roon'
The Maister's words tae hear.
An' even the bairn's frae the
near-haun streets
Were mixin' in wi' the thrang,
Laddies an' lassies wi' wee bare
feet
Jinkin' the crood amang.
But yin o' the twal' at the
Maister's side
Rose up and cried alood:
'Come, come, bairns, this is nae
place for you,
Rin awa' hame oot the crood.'
But the Maister said as they
turned awa',
'Let the wee yins come tae Me'.
An' he gaithered them roon' Him
whaur He sat
An' lifted yin on His knee.
Ay, He gaithered them roon' Him
whaur He sat
An' straiked their curly hair,
An' He said tae the wonderin'
fisherfolk
That crushed an' crooded there:
'Send na the bairns awa' frae Me
But raither this lesson lairn:
That nane'll win in at Heaven's yett
That hisna the hert o' a bairn.'
An' he that wisna oor kith or kin
But a Prince o' the Far Awa',
He gaithered the wee yins in His
airms
An' blessed them yin an'a'.
