See yonder shanty on the hill;'Tis but an humble biggin',Some ten by six within the wa's--Your head may touch the riggin'--The door stands open to the south,The fire, outside the door;The logs are chinket close wi' fog--And nocht but mud the floor--A knife an' fork, a pewter plate,An' cup o' the same metal,A teaspoon an' a sugar bowl,A frying pan an' kettle;
The bakin' board hangs on the wa',Its purposes are twa-fold--For mixing bread wi' yeast or dough,Or panning oot the braw gold!A log or twa in place o' stools,A bed withoot a hangin',Are feckly a' the furnishin'sThis little house belangin';The laird and tenant o' this sty,I canna name it finer,Lives free an' easy as a lord,Tho' but an "honest miner."
