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"Wee Willie Winkie"
Wee Willie Winkie 1940 poster.jpg
1940 WPA poster using Wee Willie Winkie to promote children's libraries
Nursery rhyme
Language Scots
Published 1841
Lyricist(s) William Miller

"Wee Willie Winkie" is a well-known Scottish nursery rhyme. Its main character has become famous worldwide. He is often seen as a symbol of sleep. The poem was written by William Miller. It was first called "Willie Winkie." It appeared in a book named Whistle-binkie: Stories for the Fireside in 1841. This rhyme has a special number, 13711, in the Roud Folk Song Index. This index helps keep track of folk songs.

The Story of Wee Willie Winkie

The rhyme tells about a little character named Wee Willie Winkie. He runs through the town at night. He goes up and down stairs in his night-gown. He checks on children to see if they are in bed. He taps on windows and calls through locks. He wants to know if "the weans" (children) are asleep. This is because it is already ten o'clock.

Who Was William Miller?

William Miller Memorial, Glasgow Necropolis
The memorial to the author, William Miller, in Glasgow

William Miller was a Scottish poet. He was born in 1810 and passed away in 1872. He is best known for writing "Wee Willie Winkie." He wrote many poems for children. His work often captured the spirit of Scottish life. The rhyme quickly became popular. It helped children understand bedtime routines.

What Does the Rhyme Mean?

The poem describes a child who does not want to sleep. This child is "waukrife" (wakeful). He is "glow'ring like the moon" and making noise. He rattles an iron jug and crows like a cock. Wee Willie Winkie is called to help. He is supposed to make the child finally fall asleep. The rhyme shows how tired a mother can be. She has a "stoorie wean" (dusty child) who fights sleep. But a kiss from the child makes her feel strong again.

The Original Lyrics

Tirling pin, Royal Mile - geograph.org.uk - 1538640
A tirling pin from the Royal Mile in Edinburgh. This was an early form of doorbell. It made a rattling sound when scraped to announce a visitor.

The original poem was written in Scots. This is a language spoken in Scotland. Below, you can see the original Scots version. Next to it is a version translated into English. This English version was made in 1844. It helps more people understand the rhyme.


Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toon,
Up stairs an' doon stairs in his nicht-gown,
Tirlin' at the window, crying at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed, for it's now ten o'clock?"

"Hey, Willie Winkie, are ye comin' ben?
The cat's singin grey thrums to the sleepin hen,
The dog's speldert on the floor and disna gie a cheep,
But here's a waukrife laddie, that wunna fa' asleep."

Onything but sleep, you rogue, glow'ring like the moon,
Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon,
Rumblin', tumblin' roon about, crawin' like a cock,
Skirlin like a kenna-what, waukenin' sleepin' fock.

"Hey Willie Winkie, the wean's in a creel,
Wamblin' aff a bodie's knee like a verra eel,
Ruggin' at the cat's lug and raveling a' her thrums-
Hey Willie Winkie – see there he comes."

Wearit is the mither that has a stoorie wean,
A wee, stumpie, stousie, that canna rin his lane,
That has a battle aye wi' sleep afore he'll close an e'e-
But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me.

Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Up stairs and down stairs in his night-gown,
Tapping at the window, crying at the lock,
Are the children in their bed, for it's past ten o'clock?

Hey, Willie Winkie, are you coming in?
The cat is singing purring sounds to the sleeping hen,
The dog's spread out on the floor, and doesn't give a cheep,
But here's a wakeful little boy who will not fall asleep!

Anything but sleep, you rogue! glowering like the moon,'
Rattling in an iron jug with an iron spoon,
Rumbling, tumbling round about, crowing like a cock,
Shrieking like I don't know what, waking sleeping folk.

Hey, Willie Winkie – the child's in a creel!
Wriggling from everyone's knee like an eel,
Tugging at the cat's ear, and confusing all her thrums
Hey, Willie Winkie – see, there he comes!"

Weary is the mother who has a dusty child,
A small short sturdy child, who can't run on his own,
Who always has a battle with sleep before he'll close an eye
But a kiss from his rosy lips gives strength anew to me.

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