No, it's rashes, by Robbie Burns & in the DigiTrad 3rd version, I'd say it is Solomon he is referring to, who did reportedly have many wives, and was said to be wise for his judgement. Here are a couple of versions that might be added to the database.

GREEN GROW THE RASHES, O
(Robert Burns)

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,
An' 'twere na for the lasses, O. CHORUS

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. CHORUS

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! CHORUS

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. CHORUS

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. CHORUS

Check out this site for English translation:
http://www.worldburnsclub.com/poems/translations/green_gro_the_rashes_o.htm

And here is a version that substitutes rushes for rashes:

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

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

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. CHORUS

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 13-Oct-02.