on lofty aiks the cushats wail,

and echo cons the doolfu' tale;

the lintwhites in the hazel braes,

delighted, rival ither's lays;

the craik amang the claver hay,

the pairtrick whirring o'er the ley,

the swallow jinkin' round my shiel,

amuse me at my spinnin' wheel.

wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy,

aboon distress, below envy,

o wha wad leave this humble state,

for a' the pride of a' the great?

amid their flairing, idle toys,

amid their cumbrous, dinsome joys,

can they the peace and pleasure feel

of bessy at her spinnin' wheel?