h your head, [trouble]
Tho' we hae little gear, [wealth]
We're fit to win our daily bread,
As lang's we're hale and fier: [lusty]
'Mair spier na, nor fear na,' [More ask not]
Auld age ne'er mind a feg; [fig]
The last o't, the warst o't,
Is only but to beg.

To lie in kilns and barns at e'en,
When banes are craz'd, and bluid is thin, [bones]
Is, doubtless, great distress!
Yet then content could mak us blest;
Ev'n then, sometimes, we'd snatch a taste
Of truest happiness.
The honest heart that's free frae a'
Intended fraud or guile,
However Fortune kick the ba', [ball]
Has aye some cause to smile:
And mind still, you'll find still,
A comfort this nae sma'; [not small]
Nae mair then, we'll care then,
Nae farther can we fa'.

What tho' like commoners of air,
We wander out, we know not where,
But either house or hal'? [Without]
Yet nature's charms, the hills and woods,
The sweeping vales, and foaming floods,
Are free alike to all.
In days when daisies deck the ground,
And blackbirds whistle clear,
With honest joy our hearts will bound,
To see the coming year:
On braes when we please, then, [hill-sides]
We'll sit and sowth a tune [hum]
Syne rhyme till't, we'll time till't, [Then]
And sing't when we hae done.

It's no in titles nor in rank;
It's no in wealth like Lon'on bank,
To purchase peace and rest;
It's no in making muckle, mair: [much, more]
It's no in books, it's no in lear, [learning]
To make us truly blest:
If happiness hae not her seat
And centre in the breast,
We may be wise, or rich, or great,
But never can be blest:
Nae treasures, nor pleasures,
Could make us happy lang;
The heart aye's the part aye
That makes us right or wrang.

Think ye, that sic as you and I, [such]
Wha drudge and drive thro' wet an' dry,
Wi' never-ceasing toil;
Think ye, are