But man is a soger, and life is a faught: [soldier, fight]
My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch, [pocket]
And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch daur touch. [dare]

A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa', [twelvemonth, lot]
A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a'; [solders]
When at the blythe end of our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past? [Who the devil]

Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way, [stumble, stagger]
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jad gae:
Come ease or come travail, come pleasure or pain,
My warst word is--'Welcome, and welcome again!'


MY FATHER WAS A FARMER

My Father was a Farmer upon the Carrick border, O,
And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;
He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne'er a farthing, O,
For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O.

Then out into the world my course I did determine, O;
Tho' to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great was charming, O:
My talents they were not the worst, nor yet my education, O;
Resolv'd was I, at least to try, to mend my situation, O.

In many a way, and vain essay, I courted Fortune's favour, O:
Some cause unseen still stept between to frustrate each endeavour, O;
Sometimes by foes I was o'erpower'd, sometimes by friends forsaken, O;