The Song Book No. 4/Green grow the Rashes, O

by Robert Burns (1759-1796)

For other versions of this work, see Green Grow the Rashes.

Green grow the Rashes, O.

Green grow the rashes O!
green grow the rashes, O!
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
are spent amang the lasces, O!

There's nought but care on every han',
in ev'ry hour that passes, O;
What signifies the life o' man,
and 'twere na for the lasses, O.
Green grow, &c.

The war'ly race may riches chase,
and riches still may fly them, O;
But tho' at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
Green grow, &c.

But gie me a canny hour at e'en,
my arms about my dearie, O;
And war'ly cares and war'ly men,
May a' gae tapsalterie, O;
Green grow, &c.

For you sae douse, ye sneer at this,
ye'er nought but senseless asses, O!
The wisest man the warl' e'er saw,
he dearly lo'ed the lasses, O.
Green grow, &c.

Auld nature swears, the lovely dears
her noblest work she classes, O:
Her 'prentice han' she tried on man,
and then she made the lasses, O.
Green grow, &c.