But twenty fauts ye may hae waur, faults, worse
So blessings on thee, Robin!’
CONTENTED WI' LITTLE
Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair, cheerful
Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and Care, meet
I gie them a skelp, as they're creepin' alang, spank
Wi' a cog o' gude swats, and an auld Scottish sang. bowl of good ale
I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought; sometimes
But man is a soger, and life is a faught: soldier, fight
My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch, pocket