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!