To lie in kilns and barns at e’en, When banes are craz’d, and bluid is thin, 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’, Has aye some cause to smile: And mind still, you’ll find still, A comfort this nae sma’; 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’? 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, We’ll sit and sowth a tune; Syne rhyme till’t, we’ll time till’t, 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: It’s no in books, it’s no in lear, 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, Wha drudge and drive thro’ wet an’ dry, Wi’ never-ceasing toil; Think ye, are we less blest than they, Wha scarcely tent us in their way, As hardly worth their while? Alas! how oft in haughty mood, God’s creatures they oppress! Or else, neglecting a’ that’s guid, They riot in excess! Baith careless, and fearless, Of either heav’n or hell! Esteeming, and deeming It’s a’ an idle tale! Then let us cheerfu’ acquiesce; Nor make our scanty pleasures less By pining at our state; And, even should misfortunes come, I, here wha sit, hae met wi’ some, An’s thankfu’ for them yet. They gie the wit of age to youth; They let us ken oursel; They mak us see the naked truth, The real guid and ill. Tho’ losses, and crosses, Be lessons right severe, There’s wit there, ye’ll get there, Ye’ll find nae other where.