| The trees, they grow high, and the leaves, they do grow green
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| Many is the time my true love I’ve seen
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| Many an hour I watched him all alone
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| He’s young but he’s daily growing
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| Father, dear father, you’ve done me great wrong
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| You have married me to a boy who is too young
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| I am twice twelve and he is but fourteen
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| He’s young but he’s daily growing
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| Daughter, dear daughter, I’ve done you no wrong
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| I have married you to a great lord’s son
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| And he will be a man for you when I am dead and gone
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| He’s young but he’s daily growing
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| Father, dear father, if you see fit
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| We’ll send him to college for another year yet
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| I’ll tie a blue ribbon all around his head
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| To let the maidens know that he is married
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| One day I was looking over my father’s castle wall
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| I spied all the boys playing with a ball
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| And my own true love, he was the flower of them all
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| He’s young but he’s daily growing
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| And so early in the morning at the dawning of the day
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| They went into a hayfield for to have some sport and play
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| And what they did there she never would declare
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| But she never more complained of his growing
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| At the age of fourteen he was a married man
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| At the age of fifteen, the father of my son
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| At the age of sixteen, his grave, it was green
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| And death had put an end to his growing
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| I’ll buy my love some flannel, I’ll make my love a shroud
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| And every stitch I put in it, the tears, they’ll pour down
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| Amd every stitch I put in it, how the tears, they will flow
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| Cruel fate has put an end to his growing |