Let lords and fine ladies look round them and see
If e'er ane amang them be blyther than me;
I sit at my wheely and sing thro' the day,
And ca't my ain warld that runs rolling away.

Sae twirl thee round, wheely, I'll sing while I may;
I'll try to be happy the hale o' the day:
If we wadna mak griefs o' bit trifles sae sma',
The warld wad run smoothly roun', roun' wi' us a'.

There's ups and downs in it I see very plain,
For the spoke that's at bottom, gets topmost again;
Sae twirl thee round, wheely, I see how things turn,
And I see, too, 'tis folly for mortals to mourn.

That life is a spinster I often have read,
And too fine she draws out her spider-like thread;
A breath can destroy what's so slenderly made,
And life for her trouble has seldom been paid.

Sae twirl thee round, wheely, I'll sing while I may;
I'll try to be happy the hale o' the day:
If we wadna mak griefs o' bit trifles sae sma',
The warld wad run smoothly roun', roun' wi' us a'.

Songs And Ballads Of Cumberland And The Lake Country, by Sidney Gilpin, published in London by John Russell Smith, and in Carlisle by G. & T. Coward, 1874.