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

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

In many a way, and vain essay, I courted fortune's favour, 
Some cause unseen, still stept between, and frustrate each endeavour; 
Some times by foes I was o'erpower'd; sometimes by friends forsaken;  
And when my hope was at the top, I still was worst mistaken. 

Then sore harass'd, and tir'd at last, with fortune's vain delusion,  
I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams, and came to this conclusion; 
The past was bad, and the future hid, its good or ill untryd;  
But the present hour was in my pow'r, and so I would enjoy it,  

No help, nor hope, nor view had I; nor person to befriend me; 
So I must toil, and sweat and moil, and labor to sustain me,  
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, my father bred me early, 
For one, he said, to labour bred, was a match for fortune fairly,  

Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro' life I'm doom'd to wander,  
Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber; 
No view nor care, but shun whate'er might breed me pain or sorrow;  
I live today as well's I may, regardless of tomorrow,  

But chearful still, I am as well as a Monarch in a palace; 
Tho' fortune's frown still hunts me down with all her wonted malice: 
I make indeed, my daily bread, but ne'er can make it farther; 
But as daily bread is all I heed, I do not much regard her. 

When sometimes by my labour I earn a little money, 
Some unforeseen misfortune comes generally upon me; 
Mischance, mistake, or by neglect, or my good-natur'd folly; 
But come what will I've sworn it still, I'll ne'er be melancholy,  

All you who follow wealth and power with unremitting ardour, 
The more in this you look for bliss, you leave your view the farther; 
Had you the wealth Potosi boasts, or nations to adore you, 
A cheerful honest-hearted clown I will prefer before you.