THO' HUMBLE MY LOT.
Air—“ Her sheep had in clusters.” ______ 1 WHERE primroses spring on the green tufted brae, 2 And the riv’let runs murm’ring below, 3 O fortune, at morning, or noon, let me stray! 4 And thy wealth on thy vot’ries bestow; 5 For, O how enraptur’d my bosom does glow! 6 As calmly I wander alane, 7 Where wild woods, and bushes, and primroses grow, 8 And a streamlet enlivens the scene. 9 Tho’ humble my lot, not ignoble’s my state, 10 Let me still be contented, tho’ poor; 11 What destiny brings, be resign’d to my fate, 12 Tho’ misfortune should knock at my door: 13 I care not for honour, preferment, nor wealth, 14 Nor the titles that affluence yields, 15 While blithely I roam, in the hey-day of health, 16 ’Midst the charms of my dear native fields. |
1. brae: a hill or hillside. |