A Sang O' Zion

Ane by ane they gang awa;
   The getherer gethers grit and sma':
Ane by ane maks ane and a'!

Aye whan ane sets doon the cup
   Ane ahint maun tak it up:
A' thegither they will sup!

Golden-heidit, ripe, and strang,
   Shorn will be the hairst or lang:
Syne begins a better sang!

 

 
 
 
 

One by one they go away
   The gatherer gathers great and small:
One by one makes one and all!

Ever as one sets down the cup
   One behind must take it up:
Yet together they will sup!

Golden headed, ripe and strong,
   Shorn will be the harvest ere long: 
Then begins a better song!