This group may well close with his great hymn of general allegiance to the sex.

GREEN GROW THE RASHES

Green grow the rashes, O,

Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent amang the lasses, O!

cold

direction

shelter

Equally personal, but not connected with love, are a few autobiographical poems of which the following are typical. The third of these, though prosaic enough, is interesting as perhaps Burns's most elaborate summing up of the philosophy of his own career.

sir

make, aspread

faults, worse

cheerful

meet

spank

bowl of good ale

sometimes soldier, fight

pocket dare

twelvemonth, lot solders

Who the devil

stumble, stagger

'Guid faith,' quo' scho, 'I doubt you, stir,
Ye gar the lasses lie aspar,

But twenty fauts ye may hae waur,

So blessings on thee, Robin!'

CONTENTED WI' LITTLE

Contented wi' little, and cantie wi' mair,
Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and Care,

I gie them a skelp, as they're creepin' alang,
Wi' a cog o' gude swats, and an auld Scottish sang.

I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought;
But man is a soger, and life is a faught:

My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch,
And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch daur touch.
A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa',

A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a';
When at the blythe end of our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past?

Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way,
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jad gae:
Come ease or come travail, come pleasure or pain,
My warst word is 'Welcome, and welcome again!'

MY FATHER WAS A FARMER

My Father was a Farmer upon the Carrick border, O,
And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;
He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne'er a far-

thing, O,

For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O.

Then out into the world my course I did determine, O; Tho' to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great was charming, 0:

My talents they were not the worst, nor yet my education, O;

Resolv'd was I, at least to try, to mend my situation, O.

In many a way, and vain essay, I courted Fortune's favour, 0:

Some cause unseen still stept between to frustrate each endeavour, O;

Sometimes by foes I was o'erpower'd, sometimes by friends forsaken, O;

And when my hope was at the top, I still was worst mistaken, O.

Then sore harass'd, and tir'd at last, with Fortune's vain delusion, O,

I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams, and came to this conclusion, O—

The past was bad, and the future hid; its good or ill untried, O;

But the present hour was in my pow'r, and so I would enjoy it, O.

No help, nor hope, nor view had I, nor person to befriend me, O;

So I must toil, and sweat and broil, and labour to sustain me, O;

To plough and sow, to reap and mow, my father bred me

early, O;

For one, he said, to labour bred, was a match for For

tune fairly, O.