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THE TREES THEY DO GROW HIGH (Traditional) Joan Baez - 1961 Martin Carthy - 1965 Pentangle - 1968 John Renbourne - 1968 Greg Joy - 1993 Eliza Carthy & Nancy Kerr - 2002 The trees they grow high, the leaves they do grow green Many is the time my true love I've seen Many an hour I have watched him all alone He's young, but he's daily growing Father, dear father, you've done me great wrong You have married me to a boy who is too young I'm twice twelve and he is but fourteen He's young, but he's daily growing Daughter, dear daughter, I've done you no wrong I have married you to a great lord's son He'll be a man for you when I am dead and gone He's young, but he's daily growing Father, dear father, if you see fit We'll send him to college for another year yet I'll tie blue ribbons all around his head To let the maidens know that he's married One day I was looking o'er my father's castle wall I spied all the boys a-playing at the ball My own true love was the flower of them all He's young, but he's daily growing And so early in the morning, at the dawning of the day They went out into the hayfield to have some sport and play And what they did there, she never would declare But she never more complained of his growing At the age of fourteen, he was a married man At the age of fifteen, the father of a son At the age of sixteen, his grave it was green And death had put an end to his growing I'll buy my love some flannel and I will make a shroud With every stitch I put in it, the tears they will pour down With every stitch I put in it, how the tears will flow Cruel fate has put an end to his growing ***** Alternate Version: THE TREES THEY DO GROW HIGH The trees they do grow high, And the leaves they do grow green; But the time is past and gone, my love, That you and I have been. It's a cold winter's night, my love, And here I must abide alone: My bonny lad was young, but a-growing. Growing, growing, O my bonny lad was young, But a-growing. "O Father, dearest Father, I fear you've done me wrong, For you've married me to a bonnie boy, But I fear he is too young." "O Daughter, dearest Daughter, If you'll stay at home a time with me, A lady you shall be while he's growing." Growing, growing, O a lady you shall be, While he's a-growing. "We'll send him to a college For a year or two, And then perhaps in time, my love, Into a man he'll grow. I will buy you a ribbon blue To tie around his bonny waist To let the ladies know that he's married." Married, married, O to let the ladies know That he's married. At the age of sixteen, He was a married man, And at the age of seventeen, The father of a son, And at the age of eighteen, His grave it was a-growing green, And that did put an end to his growing. Growing, growing, O and that did put an end To his growing. The trees they do grow high, And the leaves they do grow green; But the time is past and gone, my love, That you and I have been. It's a cold winter's night, my love, And here I must abide alone: My bonny lad was young, but a-growing. Growing, growing, O my bonny lad was young, But a-growing. ***** Alternate Version: STILL GROWING The trees they do grow high and the leaves they do grow green The days are passed and gone, my love, that you and I have seen. It's a cold winter's night, and I must lie alone, For my pretty lad is long, long a-growing. O father, dear father, you to me much harm have done You've married me unto a boy, you know he is too young. O daughter, dear daughter, and if you'll wait awhile, A lady you shall be while he's growing. We'll send your lad to college for one year or two, And in that time perhaps, my love, he then may do for you. And all about his waist we will tie a ribbon blue For to let the ladies know that he's married. She listened in the garden, she looked o'er the wall. Of four and twenty scholars there, her love exceeded all. They would not let her through, for her true love she did call, Because he was a young man growing. It happened on a day, and a sunshiny day They went into the greenwood for to sport and for to play. O what did there befall, I tell not unto thee, But she never more complained on his growing. At the age of sixteen o he was a married man, At the age of seventeen she brought him forth a son. At the age of eighteen o the grass was growing green O'er my bonny lad so long, long a-growing. I made my love a shroud of the holland o so fine, And every stitch I put in it the tears run down the twine, Saying, "Once I had a sweetheart, but now I have got none, For he was to me my own true love for ever." O now my love is dead and in the grave does lie. The green grass it grows over him so very high. There I may sit and mourn until the day I die, But I'll watch o'er his child while he's growing.

    


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