Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/261

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THE SONGS OF BURNS.
203

CONTENTED WI' LITTLE.

TUNE—'LUMPS O' PUDDING.'

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair,Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow and care,I gie them a skelp as they're creepin' alang,Wi' a cog o' gude swats, and an auld Scottish sang.
I whyles 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.
A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa',A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a';When at the blythe end of our journey at last,Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past?
Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way,Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jad gae:Come ease, or come travail; come pleasure or pain,My warst word is—'Welcome, and welcome again!'

MY NANNIE'S AWA.

TUNE—'THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE COMES HAME.'

Now in her green mantle blythe nature arrays,And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes,While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw;But to me it's delightless—my Nannie's awa.
The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn,And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn:They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,They mind me o' Nannie—my Nannie's awa.
Thou laverock that springs frae the dews o' the lawn,The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn,And thou, mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa',Gie over for pity—my Nannie's awa.
Come autumn sae pensive, in yellow and grey,And soothe me wi' tidins o' nature's decay;The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw,Alane can delight me—now Nannie's awa.
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