The Birdie Sure to Sing Is Aye the Gorbel o' the Nest

Oh, dinna look ye pridefu' doon on a' aneath your ken,
For he wha seems the farthest but aft wins the farthest ben;
And whiles the doubie o' the school tak's lead o' a' the rest,
The birdie sure to sing is aye the gorbel o' the nest.

The cauld gray misty morn aft brings a sultry sunny day,
The trees wha's buds are latest are the langest to decay;
The heart sair tried wi' sorrow aye endures the sternest test--
The birdie sure to sing is aye the gorbel o' the nest.

The wee, wee stern that glints in heaven, may be a lowin' sun,
Though like a speck o' light, scarce seen amid the welkin dun;
The humblest sodger on the field may win the warrior's crest--
The birdie sure to sing is aye the gorbel o' the nest.

Then dinna be impatient wi' your bairnie when he 's slow,
And dinna scorn the humble, though the world deem them low;
The hindmost and the feeblest aft become the first and best--
The birdie sure to sing is aye the gorbel o' the nest.