Blythe, blythe, and happy are we,
Cauld care is flegg'd awa;
This is but ae night o' our lives,
And wha wad grudge tho' it were twa.
The evening shade around is spread,
The chilling tempest sweeps the sky,
We're kindly met, and warmly set,
An' streams o' nappy rinnin' by.
Blythe, &c.
While gettin fou we're great I trow,
We scorn misfortune's greatest bangs,
The magic bowl can lift the soul
Aboon the world and a' its wrangs.
Blythe, &c.
The days of man are but a span,
This mortal life a pleasing dream,
Nought to illume the drearie gloom,
Save love and friendship's sacred gleam.
Blythe, &c.
Then toom your glass to my sweet lass,
And syne we'll turn it o'er to thine,
The glowin breast that lov's them best
Shall dearest ever be to mine.
Blyth, &c.
And here's to you my friend so true,
May discord ne'er a feeling wound;
And should we flyte ne'er harbour spite,
But in a bowl be't quickly drown'd.
Blythe, &c.
Now rap and ring and gar them bring
The biggest stoupfu' yet we've seen
Why should we part when hand and heart
At ilka bumper grows mair keen.
Blythe, &c.