I'm an auld body, noo, an'
dune,
No fit for muckle mair
Than juist tae sit an' mind
the fire
An' watch the glory there
Burn doon an' gaither on the
ribs
An' fa' into the pan,
An' aye I think it's like the
spark
That's in the breist o' man.
The minister comes ben at
whiles
An' talks tae me o' God.
He's a weel-meanin', canty
lad,
An' yet I canna haud
Wi' a' he says. There's some
that's gane
(The Lord forgie!) I tell
Ye I had liefer see again
Than even God Himsel'.
An' yet there's some I'm sweir
tae think
I'll come across up there!
My guid-sister was ane o'
these
(In spite o' a' her care!)
I aye keep hopin' (though it's
wrang!),
If she's got slippin' ben,
They'll let me oot anither way
An' doon the stair again!
They say there's mony mansions
there,
An' weel I hope it's meant,
I wadna like tae find masel'
Shut up wi' a' I've kent!
I'm no for harps or golden
croons,
I've tried tae dae my best,
An' syne I've trusted Paradise
Wad be a place o' rest.
Sae whiles at nicht I watch
the fire
An' in the ashes fa'
I think I see the wee cot
hoose
Where a' the bairns were sma'.
The water lippin' on the
shore,
The kirk upon the rise -
I didna want a mansion, Lord,
Wi' that for Paradise.