Ye dinna ken what ails ye,
But I can tell ye fine!
A cloud I see on ilka e'e
That dulls its mornin' shine.
Frae Granny Sleep ye turn awa,
And fecht as lang's ye can;
Yet she's the kindest o' us a',
My wee weariet man!

Ye've been as blithe's a kitlin;
Ye've toddlet out and in;
Ye've played wi' ocht, ye've played wi' nocht,
Wi' reel and ba' and spune;
But Granny Sleep will lay them by
The ferlies a' ye fan';
And waff ye to the mornin' sky,
My wee weariet man!

Ay! aulder e'en, my bairnie,
Hae been as laith to tine
The eident play that filled their day
As late and lang as thine.
And whyles we fret and whiles we froon;
But aye sin' bairns began,
It's Granny Sleep that sings us doon,
My wee weariet man!