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The scented brier, the fragrant bean, The clover bloom, the dewy green, A' charm me, as I rove at e'en, To meet mine ain dear somebody

Let warriors prize the hero's name, Let mad ambition tower for fame, I'm happier in my lowly hame, Obscurely blest with somebody

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HEART IS SAIR WI' HEAVY CARE.

My heart is sair with heavy care, To think on Friendship's fickle smile, It blinks a wee, with kindly e'e,                   When world's thrift runs weel the while; But, let Misfortune's tempests low'r,                 It soon turns cold, it soon turns sour, It looks sae high and scornfully It winna ken a poor man's door.

I ance had siller in my purse, I doalt it out right frank and free, And hop'd, should Fortune change her course, That they would do the same for me. But, weak in wit, I little thought That Friendship's smiles were sold and bought. Till ance I saw, like April snaw, They wan'd awa' when I had nought.

It's no to see my thread-bare coat, It's no to see my coggie toom, It's no to wair my hindmost groat, That gars me fret, and gars me gloom. But 'tis to see the scornful pride That honest Poortith aft maun bide Frae selfish slaves, and sordid knaves, Wha strut with Fortune on their side.