Chorus
  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
  If 'twere na for the lasses, O.

The war'ly race may riches chase,
  And riches still may fly them, O;
And tho' at last they catch them fast,
  Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.

But gie me a canny hour at e'en,
  My arms about my dearie, O,
An' war'ly cares, and 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 warld saw,
  He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.

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.

 (Chorus)