GREEN GROW
THE RASHES
by Robert Burns
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.
Green grow, etc
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, etc
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, etc
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, etc
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, etc
Footnote : The first in a
mini-series of songs by our National Bard, Robert Burns, to mark
the anniversary of his death and funeral in July 1796. An early
song, he set it down in his Commonplace-Book in August 1784.