like a gentle spinning wheel,
Inside my Master’s room,
Gratitude and harmony,
do strain around the loom.
Love for Man with every turn,
Is felt by bride and groom,
and as the wheel does spin its yarn,
old maidens in their bloom.
Never stopping ever weaving,
The loving wheel goes round,
Quilting good for every hour,
with blessings most profound,
Autumn winds and vanities.
Drown out many sounds.
Creeping maids and innocence.
Bring tears of age and frown,
the pedalled wheel continues on
Its sound is ever present,
exchanging gloom for happy days,
laments for every pleasance.
Kilbirnie & Beyond 