Green Grow the Rashes O C Am
There's naught but care on ev'ry han', Dm In ev'ry hour that passes, O! F C What signifies the life o' man, Dm Am An' 'twere na for the lasses O? CHO C Green grow the rashes O! Dm Green grow the rashes O! F C The sweetest hours that e'er I spent Dm Am Were spent among the lasses O! Give me a cantie hour at e'en My arms about my dearie, o An warldly cares and warldly men, May a' gae tapsalteerie, O! CHO The warldly race may riches chase And riches still may fly them, o And tho at last they catch them fast Their herts can ne'er enjoy them, o CHO For you sae douce wha sneer at this, Ye're not but senseless asses, O! The wisest man the warld e'er saw, He dearly loved the lasses, O! CHO 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! CHO 
The Banks o' DoonYe banks and braes o' bonnie Doon
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o' care! Thou'll break my heart, thou warblin' bird, That wantons thro' the flowering thorn Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed never to return! Oft hae I roved by bonnie Doon To see the rose and woodbine twine And ilka bird sang o' its love, And fondly sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree; And my fause lover staw my rose But, ah! she left the thorn wi' me. Auld Lang SyneShould auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days of auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne. We’ll tak a cup o kindness yet For auld lang syne And surely ye’ll be your pint-stoup And surely I’ll be mine We’ll tak a cup o kindness yet For auld lang syne We twa hae run aboot the braes And pu'd the gowans fine. We've wandered mony a weary foot, Sin' auld lang syne. We twa hae paidl’d i' the burn, From morning sun till dine, But seas between us braid hae roared Sin' auld lang syne. And ther's a hand, my trusty fiere, And gie's a hand o' thine; We'll tak' a richt guid willy waught For auld lang syne. |
Epitaph on Holy WillieHere Holy Willie's sair worn clay
Tak's up its last abode; His soul has ta'en some other way, I fear, the left-hand road. Stop! There he is, as sure's a gun, Poor, silly body, see him; Nae wonder he's as black's the grun - Observe wha's standing wi him! Your brumstane devilship, I see, Has got him there before ye; But haud your nine-tail cat a wee, Till ance ye've heard my story. Your pity I will not implore For pity ye hae nane! Justice alas! has gien him oer, And mercy's day is gane. But hear me, sir, deil as ye are, Look something to your credit; A coof like him wad stain your name, If it were kent ye did it. Buy broom besomsD Em D Em
If ye want a besom fur tae clean yer hoose D Em Bm G Come tae me ma lassie ye shall hae yer choice A D G CHO Buy broom besoms buy them when they're new A D A D Fine heather reddans better never grew Besoms fur a penny, ringers fur a plack If ye dinna buy I'll tie them on ma back If a had a horse he could pu a cairt If a had a wife she could tak ma pairt I maun hae a wife I care na what she be Gin she be a woman that's enough for me If that she be bonny I shall think her richt If that she be ugly whaur's the odds at nicht? Buy... Oh an she be young hoo happy shall I be If that she be auld the sooner she will dee Buy... If that she be fruitful o what joy is there If she should be barren less will be my care Buy... Be she green or gray, be she black or fair Let her be a woman I shall seek nae mair Buy... If she like a drappie, she and I'll agree If she disna like it there's the mair fur me Buy... The rantin dog, the daddy o'tO, wha my babie-clouts will buy?
O, wha will tent me when I cry? Wha will kiss me where I lie? - The rantin dog, the daddie o't! O, wha will own he did the faut? O, wha will buy the groanin maut? O, wha will tell me how to ca't? - The rantin dog, the daddie o't! When I mount the creepie-chair, Wha will sit beside me there? Gie me Rob, I'll seek nae mair - The rantin dog, the daddie o't! Wha will crack to me my lane? Wha will mak me fidgin fain? Wha will kiss me o'er again? - The rantin dog, the daddie o't! The creepie chair...or stool of repentance is where sinners had to sit whilst in the church. Burns had to stand penance in the kirk for fathering a bairn – Dear Bought Bess – wi Elizabeith Paton, a farm servant. Honest PovertyF Bb C F Bb
Is there, for honest poverty, that hings his heid, and a’ that? F Bb C F Bb C The coward slave, we’ll pass him by, we daur be poor for a’ that! F Bb C F Bb For a’ that and a’ that, our toils obscure and a’ that F Bb C F Bb C The rank is but the guinea stamp, the man’s the gowd for a’ that. What though on hamely fare we dine, wear hoddin grey, and a’ that? Gie fools their silks and knaves their wine, a man’s a man for a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that, their tinsel show and a’ that The honest man, though ere sae poor, is king o men for a’ that Ye see thon birkie ca’d a lord wha struts and stares and a’ that? Though hundreds worship at his word, he’s but a coof for a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that, his riband, star, and a’ that The man o’ independent mind he looks and laughs at a’ that. A prince can mak a belted knight, a marquis, duke and a’ that An honest man’s abune his might, guid faith he mauna fa’ that! For a’ that and a’ that, their dignities and a’ that The pith o sense and pride o worth are higher rank than a’ that So let us pray that come it may as come it will for a’ that, That sense and worth o’er a’ the earth May bear the gree and a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that, it’s coming yet, for a’ that That man tae man, the world o’er shall brothers be for a’ that. |
