IT’S WINTER AGAIN
The simmer days are noo awa’,
Dowf and doolie sits the craw,
The winter winds have come again
Pitter patter fa’s the rain;
The butterfly and busy bee
Have flown awa’ frae Colinslee,
The heather bell and gowden broom
Wi’ cauld and sleet have met their doom.
The bowling-green’s deserted noo,
Fitba fields are a’ crammed fu’,
Bats and wickets are a’ stowed by,
The model yachts in harbour lie;
Our gallant oarsmen, smart and bien,
Nae mair upon the Cart are seen;
Wild flower lovers, cantie chiels,
Nae mair can ramble through the field
Nae mair ye see fine lovely dames
At tennis court and croquet games
The sonsie kimmers are a’ doon in the moo’,
Their favourite sport is ended noo,
Nae mair ye see, when oot at night,
Braw, sturdy billies, pitch the quoit;
Sair ’gainst the grain, the cycle flier
To other sports maun noo retire.
