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RABEART BURNS — AMBARD DERI.ACH. 107
I.
Tliere's nought but care on every hand,
In ev'ry hour that passes, O ;
VVhat signifies the life of man
An 'tvvere not for the lasses, O ?
Green grow, &c.
II.
The warl'y race may riches chase,
And riches still may flee them, O ;
An' though at last they catch tliem fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
Green grow, &c.
III.
But gi*e me an hour at e'en
My arms about my dearie, O ;
An warly cares, an warl'y men,
May all gae tapsailteerie, O?
Green grow, &c.
.IV.
For you sae douse ye sneer at this,
YeVe nought but senseless asses, O ;
The wisest man the warl saw
He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.
Green grow, &c.
V.'
Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest works she classes, O ;
Her prentice han* she try'd on man,
And then she made the lasses, O.
Green grow, &c.

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