And are ye sure the news is true,
And are ye sure he's signed?
I can't believe the joyful tale,
And leave my fears behind.
If John has signed and drinks no more,
The happiest wife am I
That ever swept a cottage hearth,
Or sung a lullaby!
For there's nae luck about the house,
O there 's nae' luck at a',
And gane 's the comfort o' the house,
Since he to drink did fa'!
Whose eye so kind, whose hand so strong,
Whose love so true will shine,
If he has bent his heart and hand
The total pledge to sign.
But what puts doubting in my head?
I trust he 'll taste no more;
Be still, be still, my beating heart!
Hark! hark! he 's at the door!
For there 's nae luck about the house, &c.
And blessings on the helping hands,
That send him back to me,
Haste, haste, ye little ones, and run
Your father's face to see.
And are you sure, my John, you 've signed?
And are you sure 't is past?
Then mine 's the happiest, brightest home
On tem'prance' shores at last!
There 's been nae luck about the house,
But now 'tis comfort a'!
And Heaven preserve my ain gude man,
That he may never fa'.