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James Ballantine
Confide ye aye in
Providence, for Providence is kind,
And hear ye a' life's changes wi' a calm and tranquil mind.
Tho' press'd and hemm'd on every side, hae fath an ye'l win through,
For ilka blad o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.
Gin reft frae friends, or cross'd in love, as whiles nae doubt ye've been,
Grief lies deep hidden in your heart, or tears flow frae your een;
Believe it for the best, an' trow there's gude in store for you.
For ilka glade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.
In lang lang days o' simmer, when the clear an' cloudless sky
Refuses ae wee drap o' rain to nature parch'd and dry,
The genial night wi' balmy breath gars verdure spring anew,
An' ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew
So lest 'mid Fortune's sunshine we should feel owre proud an' hie,
An' in our pride forget to wipe the tear frae poortith's e'e;
Some wee dark clouds o' sorrow come, we ken na whence or how,
But ilka blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew.
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