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
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