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.