Cream of Tannahill's Songs (3)/My heart is sair wi' heavy care
For other versions of this work, see My Heart is Sair wi' Heavy Care.
MY HEART IS SAIR WI' HEAVY CARE.
My heart is sair with heavy care,To think on Friendship's fickle smile,It blinks a wee, with kindly e'e,When world's thrift runs weel the while;But, let Misfortune's tempests low'r,It soon turns cold, it soon turns sour,It looks sae high and scornfullyIt winna ken a poor man's door.
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 thoughtThat Friendship’s smiles were sold and bought,Till ance I saw, like April snaw,They wan'd awa' when I had nought.
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 prideThat honest Poortith aft maun bideFrae selfish slaves, and sordid knaves,Wha strut with Fortune on their side.
But let it gang, what de'il care I, With eident thrift I'll toil for mair,I'll half 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 seeAn henest heart can ne'er be poor.