Green Grow the Rushes-O

Scotland.
Robert Burns may have had a hand in the words. The tune is from Scotland.

    Chorus:
         Green grow the rushes-O,
         Green grow the rushes-O,
         The sweetest bed that e'er I got
         Was the bellies of the lassies O

    In sober hours I am a priest,
    A hero when I'm tipsy O,
    But I'm a king and everything
    When with a wanton gipsy O

    Chorus:
         Green grow the rushes-O,
         Green grow the rushes-O,
         The sweetest bed that e'er I got
         Was the bellies of the lassies O

    We're all dry with drinking o't,
    We're all dry with drinking o't,
    The parson kissed the fiddler's wife
    And he couldna preach for thinking o't.

    Chorus:
         Green grow the rushes-O,
         Green grow the rushes-O,
         The sweetest bed that e'er I got
         Was the bellies of the lassies O

    The down bed, the feather bed,
    The bed among the rushes O,
    Yet all the beds is not so soft
    As the bellies of the lassies O

    Chorus:
         Green grow the rushes-O,
         Green grow the rushes-O,
         The sweetest bed that e'er I got
         Was the bellies of the lassies O