Green Grow the Rashes-o by Robert Burns

Lyrics
Green grow the rashes, O; Green grow the rashes, O; The sweetest hours that e'er I spend Are spent amang the lasses, O 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 The war'ly 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 But gie me a canniе hour at e'en My arms about my deariе, O; An' war'ly cares, an' war'ly men May a' gae tapsalteerie, O! For you sae douce, ye sneer at this; Ye're nought but senseless asses, O: The wisest man the warl' e'er saw He dearly lov'd 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
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Credits
- Writers
- Robert Burns