Home  »  A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895  »  Cuddle Doon

Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

Alexander Anderson b. 1845

Cuddle Doon

THE BAIRNIES cuddle doon at nicht

Wi’ muckle faught an’ din;

“Oh try and sleep, ye waukrife rogues,

Your faither’s comin’ in.”

They never heed a word I speak;

I try to gie a froon,

But aye I hap them up an’ cry,

“Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon.”

Wee Jamie wi’ the curly heid—

He aye sleeps next the wa’—

Bangs up an’ cries, “I want a piece;”

The rascal starts them a’.

I rin an’ fetch them pieces, drinks,

They stop awee the soun’,

Then draw the blankets up an’ cry,

“Noo, weanies, cuddle doon.”

But, ere five minutes gang, wee Rab

Cries out, frae ’neath the claes,

“Mither, mak’ Tam gie ower at ance,

He ’s kittlin’ wi’ his taes.”

The mischief’s in that Tam for tricks,

He ’d bother half the toon;

But aye I hap them up and cry,

“Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon.”

At length they hear their faither’s fit,

An’, as he steeks the door,

They turn their faces to the wa’,

While Tam pretends to snore.

“Hae a’ the weans been gude?” he asks,

As he pits aff his shoon;

“The bairnies, John, are in their beds,

An’ lang since cuddled doon.”

An’ just afore we bed oorsels,

We look at our wee lambs;

Tam has his airm roun’ wee Rab’s neck,

And Rab his airm round Tam’s.

I lift wee Jamie up the bed,

An’ as I straik each croon,

I whisper, till my heart fills up,

“Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon.”

The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht

Wi’ mirth that ’s dear to me;

But soon the big warl’s cark an’ care

Will quaten doon their glee.

Yet, come what will to ilka ane,

May He who rules aboon

Aye whisper, though their pows be bald,

“Oh, bairnies, cuddle doon.”