Page:Beauties of Burn's poems.pdf/137

( 137 )

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

 

SONG,

TUNE-Corn-Rigs are bonny.

IT was upon a Lammas night, When corn-rigs are bonny, Beneath the moon's unclouded light I held awa to Annie: