SAW ye ne'er a lanely lassie,
Thinkin' gin she were a wife,
The sun o' joy wad ne'er gae down,
But warm and cheer her a' her life?
Saw ye ne'er a wearie wifie,
Thinkin' gin' she were a lass,
She wad aye be blythe and cheerie,
Lightly as the day wad pass?
Wives and lasses, young and aged,
Think na on each ither's state;
Ilka ane it has its crosses,
Mortal joy was ne'er complete.
Ilka ane it has its blessings,
Peevish dinna pass them bye,
But like choicest berries seek them,.
Tho' amang the thorns they lie.