Green Grow the Rashes, O!
Robert Burns

Set to a tune Burns found in Walsh's Country Dances, published in 1740.  Another version of the lyrics is in The Merry Muses of Caledonia,  group of folk poems which Burns collected, edited, and often rewrote.

1.
There's naught but care on ev-'ry han', 
In ev-'ry hour that pass-es, O! 
What sig-ni-fies the life o' man, 
An' 'twere na for the las-ses, O! 

CHORUS:
Green grow the rash-es, O 
Green grow the rash-es, O! 
The sweet-est hours that e'er I spend, 
Are spent a-mang the lass-es, O!

2.
The ward-ly race may rich-es chase, 
An' rich-es still may fly them, O; 
An' though at last they catch them fast, 
Their hearts can ne'er en-joy them, O.

3.
Gie me a can-nie hour at e'-en, 
My arms about my dear-ie, O, 
An' warld-ly cares, an ward-ly men 
May a' gae tap-sal-tee-rie, O!

4.
An' you sae douce, wha sneer at this, 
Ye're naught but sense-less ass-es, O! 
The wis-est man the warld e'er saw, 
He dear-ly lo'ed the lass-es, O!

5.
Auld na-ture swears the love-ly dears 
Her nob-lest work she class-es, O, 
Her 'pren-tice han' she tried on man, 
An' then she made the lass-es, O.