Classic Poem

The hallow days o Yule are come,
The nights are lang an dark,
An in an cam her ain twa sons,
Wi their hats made o the bark.

" O eat an drink, my merry men a,"
The better shall ye fare,
For my twa sons the are come hame
To me for evermair."

O she has gaen an made their bed,
An she 's made it saft an fine,
An she 's happit them wi her gay mantel,
Because they were her ain.

O the young cock crew i the merry Linkem,
An the wild fowl chirpd for day;
The aulder to the younger did say,
Dear brother, we maun away.

" Lie still, lie still a little wee while,
Lie still but if we may;
For gin my mother miss us away
She 'll gae mad or it be day."

O it 's they 've taen up their mother's mantel,
An they 've hangd it on the pin:
" O lang may ye hing, my mother's mantel,
Or ye hap us again!"