A Joy that Turn’t my Hairt fae Stane
Author: (Philip Robinson)
Date: 2004
Source: Ullans: The Magazine for Ulster-Scots, Nummer 9 and 10 Wunter 2004
Philip Robinson (Tune: St Petersburg)
Yinst A wus blin, an cudnae see
That leevin-weel had langl’l me.
But bricht tha day, ma apen’t ee
Saa licht an gart me waak wi Thee.
Sich love A niver thocht tae gain —
A Joy that turn’t my hairt fae stane.
Whan gaithert cloods as dairk as sin
Cum doon, an troubl’t wattèrs rin.
Whan scrabbin thoarns ma claes dae fin
A whisht, an heerd a voice within.
Sich love A niver thocht tae gain —
A Joy that turn’t my hairt fae stane.
Anither day, anither nicht,
Anither chance tae dae whit’s richt.
A can but dae tha best A micht
Whan thonnèr lifts tha moarnin licht.
Sich love A niver thocht tae gain —
A Joy that turn’t ma hairt fae stane.
O tak my wurd, an bear tha gree,
Fur Jesus cum an liftit me.
His love wus nail’t agin a tree;
Thon Tree o Life wus gien tae me.
Sich love A niver thocht tae gain —
A Joy that turn’t my hairt fae stane.
