contented wi little and cantie wi mair（1/1）

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:

 e ease, ore travail,e pleasure or pain,

my warst word is: “wee, and wee again!”

contented wi' little, &c.