There was a sound of revelry by night,
Away down south where I was born;
Let dogs delight to bark and bite,
Cows in the meadow and sheep in the corn.
A chieftain to the Highlands bound,
His father's hope, his mother's joy,
Found something smooth and hard and round,
John Brown's little Indian boy.
Man wants but little here below,
Oats, peas, beans, and barley;