My Heart is Sair Wi' Heavy Care

Melody - "The Rosy Brier"

Robert Tannahill

My heart is sair wi' heavy care,
To think on Friendship's fickle smile;
It blinks a wee, wi' kindly e'e,
When warld's thrift rins weel the while
But, let Misfortune's tempests low'r,
It soon turns cauld, it soon turns sour
It looks sae high and scornfully,
It winna ken a poor man's door.

2. I ance had siller in my purse,
I dealt it out right frank and free,
And hop'd, should Fortune change her course,
That they would do the same for me
But, weak in wit, I little thought
That Friendship's smiles were sold and bought.
'Till ance I saw, like April snaw,
They wan'd awa' when I had nought.

3. It's no to see my thread-bare coat,
It's no to see my coggie toom
It's no to wair my hindmost groat,
That gars me fret, and gars me gloom:
But 'tis to see the scornful pride
That honest Poortith aft maun bide
Frae selfish slaves, and sordid knaves,
Wha strut with Fortune on their side.

4. But let it gang, what de'il care I!
With eident thrift I'll toil for mair;
I'll halve my mite with Misery,
But fient a ane of them shall share:
With soul unbent, I'll stand the stour,
And while they're flutt'ring past my door,
I'll sing with glee, and let them see
An honest heart can ne'er be poor.

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