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The Song Book
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 ! Green grow, &c.
For you sae douse, ye sneer at this, Ye're nought but senseless asses, O j
The wisest man the w; irl' saw, He dearly lov'd the lasses, O. Green grow, &o.
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. Green grow, &c.
Words by Burns.
Tune Green grow the Rashes, O.