The Beauties of Burn's Poems/Green grow the Rashes

by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

For other versions of this work, see Green Grow the Rashes.

Green grow the Rashes.

A FRAGMENT.

There's nought but care on ev'ry han',
In ev'ry hour that passes, O:
What signifies the life o'man,
And 'twere na for the lasses, O?

CHORUS.
Green grow the rashes, O,
Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e'er I spent,
Were spent amang the lasses, O.

The wardly race may riches chace,
And riches still may flee them, O;
And tho' at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O,
Green grow, &c.

Gie me a cannie hour at e'en,
My arms about my deary, O,
And warldly cares, and warldly men,
May a' gae tapsalteerie, O.
Green grow, &c.

For you, sae douse. ye sneer at this,
Ye're nought but senseless asses, O;
The wisest man the warl' e'er saw,
He dearly lo'ed the lasses, O.
Green grow, &c.

Auld Nature swears, the lovely Dears
Her noblest work she classes, O;
Her prentice-han' she try'd on man,
And then she made the lasses, O.
Green grow, &c.

 

Divider from 'The Beauties of Burn's Poems' a chapbook printed in Falkirk in 1819