Classic Poem

Confide ye aye in Providence,
— For Providence is kind:
An' bear ye a' life's changes
— Wi' a calm an' tranquil mind.
Though pressed and hemmed on every side,
— Ha'e faith, an' ye'll win through;
— — For ilka blade o' grass
— — — Keps its ain drap o' dew.

Gin reft frae friends, or crossed in love,
— As whiles nae doubt ye've been,
Grief lies deep-hidden in your heart,
— Or tears flow frae your e'ndash,
Believe it for the best, and trow
— There's good in store for you;
— — For ilka blade o' grass
— — — Keps its ain drap o' dew.

In lang, lang days o' simmer,
— When the clear and cloudless sky
Refuses ae wee drap o' rain
— To nature, parched and dry,
The genial night, with balmy breath,
— Gars verdure spring anew,
— — An' ilka blade o' grass
— — — Keps its ain drap o' dew.

Sae 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 nor hoo;
— — But ilka blade o' grass
— — — Keps its ain drap o' dew.