Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. III. The Eighteenth Century: Addison to Blake

Robert Burns (1759–1796)

Green Grow the Rashes. A Fragment

Chorus.

GREEN grow the rashes, O;

Green grow the rashes, O;

The sweetest hours that e’er I spend,

Are spent among the lasses, O!

There ’s nought but care on ev’ry han’,

In ev’ry hour that passes, O;

What signifies the life o’ man,

An’ ’twere na for the lasses, O.

The warly race may riches chase,

An’ riches still may fly them, O;

An’ tho’ at last they catch them fast,

Their hearts can ne’er enjoy them, O.

But gie me a cannie hour at e’en,

My arms about my dearie, O;

An’ warly cares, an’ warly men,

May a’ gae tapsalteerie, O!

For you sae douce, ye sneer at this,

Ye ’re nought but senseless asses, O;

The wisest man the warl’ e’er saw,

He dearly lov’d the lasses, O.

Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears

Her noblest work she classes, O;

Her ’prentice han’ she tried on man,

An’ then she made the lasses, O.