Why sighs the heart midst wealth and store?
Why all the anguish of the great?
Sure riches can elude the sigh,
And bribe the tear to shun the eye.
If so let's grasp the golden store,
And ev'ry moment gather more;
While milkmaids careless of to--morrow,
Are wand'ring on the banks of Yarrow.

Yet riches ne'er should be denied
A source of bliss if right applied;
For misery on her flock--worn bed
May sure be built a warmer shed;
And every ill that want can bring
'Tis happy wealth's to blunt the sting;
To help poor love to gain his marrow
And make a paradise on Yarrow.

If happiness you'd keep in view
The paths of splendour ne'er pursue;
The frowns of fortune likewise shun,
Or else you strive to be undone;
Watch o'er the feelings of the heart--
Forbid, nor yet indulge the smart:
Give much to joy--some tears to sorrow,
And make the mind the banks of Yarrow.