Contented Wi’ Little and Cantie Wi’ Mair
Tune—“Lumps o’ Puddin’.”
Contented wi’ little, and cantie wi’ mair,Whene’er I forgather wi’ Sorrow and Care,I gie them a skelp as they’re creeping alang,Wi’ a cog o’ gude swats and an auld Scottish sang.Chorus—Contented wi’ little, &c.
I whiles claw the elbow o’ troublesome thought;But Man is a soger, and Life is a faught;My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch,And my Freedom’s my Lairdship nae monarch dare touch.Contented wi’ little, &c.
A townmond o’ trouble, should that be may fa’,A night o’ gude fellowship sowthers it a’:When at the blythe end o’ our journey at last,Wha the deil ever thinks o’ the road he has past?Contented wi’ little, &c.
Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way;Be’t to me, be’t frae me, e’en let the jade gae:Come Ease, or come Travail, come Pleasure or Pain,My warst word is: “Welcome, and welcome again!”Contented wi’ little, &c.