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ntented wi&039; little and cantie wi&039; air

tune—“ps o&039; pudd&039;”

ntented wi&039; little, and cantie wi&039; air,

whene&039;er i father wi&039; rrow and care,

i gie the a skelp as they&039;re creepg ang,

wi&039; a g o&039; gude swats and an auld sttish sang

chor—ntented wi&039; little, c

i whiles cw the elbow o&039; trouble thought;

but an is a r, and life is a faught;

y irth and gude huour are y pouch,

and y freedo&039;s y irdship nae onarch dare touch

ntented wi&039; little, c

a townond o&039; trouble, should that be ay fa&039;,

a night o&039; gude fellowship wthers it a&039;:

when at the blythe end o&039; our journey at st,

wha the deil ever thks o&039; the road he has past?

ntented wi&039; little, c

bld chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way;

be&039;t to , be&039;t frae , e&039;en let the jade gae:

e ease, or e travail, e pleasure or pa,

y warst word is: “wele, and wele aga!”

ntented wi&039; little, c