Despite my obviously sarcastic tone in the title, I did want to do som'fing nice for y'alls not on FaceBook (you lucky SOBs) . . . Here 'tis:Green grow the rashes
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,
Thier hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
But gie me a canny hour at e'en,
My arms about my Dearie, O;
An' warly cares, an' warly men,
May a' gae tapsalteerie, O!
For you sae douse, ye sneer at this,
Ye're nought but senseless asses, O:
The wisest Man o' the warl' saw,
He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.
Auld Nature swears, the lovely Dears
Her noblest work she classes, O:
Her prentice han' she try'd on man,
An' then she made the lasses, O.
--Robbie Burns
2 comments:
You're sweet.
i had to do some research to realize that this is the original way bob wrote it...i saw 'green grow the rashes' and i assumed it was a VD reference and i thought was a parody that should have been written by Bob's brother, 'Dick Burns'
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