Greitna, Father

Greitna, father, that I'm gauin,         For fu' well ye ken the gaet;     I' the winter, corn ye're sawin,         I' the hairst again ye hae't.     I'm gauin hame to see my mither;         She'll be weel acquant or this!     Sair we'll muse at ane anither         'Tween the auld word an' new kiss!     Love I'm doobtin may be scanty         Roun ye efter I'm awa:     Yon kirkyard has happin plenty         Close aside me, green an' braw!     An' abune there's room for mony;         'Twasna made for ane or twa,     But was aye for a' an' ony         Countin love the best ava.     There nane less ye'll be my father;         Auld names we'll nor tyne nor spare!     A' my sonship I maun gather         For the Son is king up there.     Greitna, father, that I'm gauin,         For ye ken fu' well the gaet!     Here, in winter, cast yer sawin,         There, in hairst, again ye hae't!