Cauld frosty morning

'Twas past ane o'clock in a cauld frosty morning,
When cankert November blaws over the plain,
I heard the kirk-bell repeat the loud warning,
As, restless, I sought for sweet slumber in vain:
Then up I arose, the silver moon shining bright
Mountains and valleys appearing all hoary white
Forth I would go, amid the pale, s'ient night,
And visit the Fair One, the cause of my pain.-
Sae gently I staw to my lovely Maid's chamber,
And rapp'd at her window, low down on my knee
Begging that she would awauk from sweet slum'ber,
Awauk from sweet slumber and pity me:
For, that a stranger to a' pleasure, peace and rest,
Love into madness ha fired my tortur'd breast
And that I should be of a'men the maist unblest,
Unless she would pity my sad miserie!
My Truic-love arose and whispered to me,
(The moon looked in, an envy'd my Love's charms)
'An innocent Maiden, ah, would you undo me!'
I made no reply, but leapt into her arms:
Bright Phebus peep'd over the hills and found me there
As he has done, now, seven lang years and mair:
A faithfuller, constanter, kinder, more loving Pair,
His sweet-chearing beam nor enlightens nor warms.