| There’s not but care on every hand
|
| In every hour that passes oh
|
| What signifies the life of man
|
| If it were not for the lassies oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| The sweetest hours that e’er I spent
|
| Are spent among the lassies oh
|
| The worldly race may riches chase
|
| And riches still may fly them oh
|
| And though at last they catch them fast
|
| Their hearts can ne’er enjoy them oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| The sweetest hours that e’er I spent
|
| Are spent among the lassies oh
|
| The sweetest hours that e’er I spent
|
| Are spent among the lassies oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| The sweetest hours that e’er I spent
|
| Are spent among the lassies oh
|
| Old nature swears the lovley dears
|
| Her noblest work she classes oh
|
| Her apprentice hand she tried on man
|
| Then she made the lassies oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| The sweetest hours that e’er I spent
|
| Are spent among the lassies oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| Green grow the rushes oh
|
| The sweetest hours that e’er I spent
|
| Are spent among the lassies oh
|
| Are spent among the lassies oh |