O, what a panic was in my head!
I need na worried awa sae hasty,
Wi' fear and fright!
I wad be laith to lose thee
Withoot a fight!
But breast, I tried before wi’ sma’ gain
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e me back to face more pain,
And chance o’ more!
Still I am blest, we must agree;
Only the surgeons knife will toucheth me:
And och! I must cast my e'e,
On hopes for prospects cheer!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' try no tae fear!