To see their cursèd pride.
It's hardly in a body's pow'r,
To keep, at times, frae being sour,
To see how things are shar'd;
How best o' chiels are whyles in want fellows, sometimes
While coofs on countless thousands rant dolts, roister
And ken na how to wair't: spend it
But, Davie, lad, ne'er fash your head, trouble
Tho' we hae little gear, wealth
We're fit to win our daily bread,