When in my arms, wi’ a’ thy charms,
I clasp my countless treasure, O,
I seek nae mair o’ Heaven to share
Than sic a moment’s pleasure, O!
III.
And by thy een, sae bonnie blue,
I swear, I’m thine for ever, O!—
And on thy lips I seal my vow,
And break it shall I never, O!
I’ll kiss thee yet, yet,
An’ I’ll kiss thee o’er again;
An’ I’ll kiss thee yet, yet,
My bonnie Peggy Alison!
XVII.
THERE’S NOUGHT BUT CARE.
Tune—“Green grow the rashes.”
[“Man was made when nature was but an apprentice; but woman is the last and most perfect work of nature,” says an old writer, in a rare old book: a passage which expresses the sentiment of Burns; yet it is all but certain, that the Ploughman Bard was unacquainted with “Cupid’s Whirlygig,” where these words are to be found.]
CHORUS.
Green grow the rashes, O!
Green grow the rashes, O!
The sweetest hours that e’er I spend
Are spent amang the lasses, O.