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Up in the Morning Early

Up in the Morning Early by Robert Burns 1759-1796 ' Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud and shrill's I hear the blast, I'm sure it's winter fairly. Up in the morning's no for me, Up in the morning early; When a' the hills are wi' snaw, I'm sure it's winter fairly. The birds sit chittering in the thorn, A' day they fare but sparely; And lang's the night frae e'en to morn, I'm sure it's winter fairly. Up in the morning's no for me, Up in the morning early; When a' the hills are wi' snaw, I'm sure it's winter fairly. '

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