Explore "What the Auld Fowk are Thinkin" by George MacDonald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The bairns i' their beds, worn oot wi' nae wark, / Are sleepin, nor ever an eelid winkin; / The auld fowk lie still wi' their een starin stark, / An' the mirk pang-fou o' the things they are thinkin.
Whan oot o' ilk corner the bairnies they keek, / Lauchin an' daffin, airms loosin an' linkin, / The auld fowk they watch frae the warm ingle-cheek, / But the bairns little think what the auld fowk are thinkin.
Whan the auld fowk sit quaiet at the reet o' a stook, / I' the sunlicht their washt een blinterin an' blinkin, / Fowk scythin, or bin'in, or shearin wi' heuk / Carena a strae what the auld fowk are thinkin.
At the kirk, whan the minister's dreich an' dry, / His fardens as gien they war gowd guineas chinkin, / An' the young fowk are noddin, or fidgetin sly, / Naebody kens what the auld fowk are thinkin.
Whan the young fowk are greitin aboot the bed / Whaur like water throu san' the auld life is sinkin, / An' some wud say the last word was said, / The auld fowk smile, an' ken what they're thinkin.