Green grow the rashes, O by ross
There s nought but care on ev ry han ,
In ev ry hour that passes, O;
What signifies the life o man,
An twere na for the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O;
Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e er I spend,
Are spent amang the lasses, O.
The warly race may riches chase,
An riches still may fly them, O;
An tho at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne er enjoy them, O.
Green grow the rashes, O;
Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e er I spend,
Are spent amang the lasses, O.
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 the rashes, O;
Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e er I spend,
Are spent amang the lasses, O.
For you sae douse, ye sneer at this,
Ye re nought but senseless asses, O;
The wisest Man the warl saw,
He dearly lov d the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O;
Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e er I spend,
Are spent amang the lasses, O.
Auld Nature swears, the lovely Dears
Her noblest work she classes, O;
Her prentice han she try d on man,
An then she made the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O;
Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e er I spend,
Are spent amang the lasses, O.