Contented Wi’ Little And Cantie Wi’ Mair

Contented wi’ little, and cantiewi’ mair,
Whene’er I forgatherwi’ Sorrow and Care,
I giethem a skelpas they’re creeping alang,
Wi’ a cogo’ gude swatsand anauldScottish sang.
Chorus-Contented wi’ little, &c.

I whiles clawthe elbow o’ troublesome thought;
ButMan is a soger, and Life is a faught;
My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch,
And my Freedom’s my Lairdship naemonarch dare touch.
Contented wi’ little, &c.

A townmond o’ trouble, should that be may fa’,
A night o’ gudefellowship sowthers it a’:
When at the blythe end o’ our journey at last,
Whathe deilever thinks o’the road he has past?
Contented wi’ little, &c.

Blind Chance, let her snapperand stoyteon her way;
Be’t to me, be’t fraeme, e’enlet the jade gae:
Come Ease, or come Travail, come Pleasure orPain,
My warst word is: “Welcome, and welcome again!”
Contented wi’little, &c.