Play recording: Trees They Grow Tall, The
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- Teideal (Title): Trees They Grow Tall, The.
- Uimhir Chatalóige Ollscoil Washington (University of Washington Catalogue Number): 844001.
- Uimhir Chnuasach Bhéaloideas Éireann (National Folklore of Ireland Number): none.
- Uimhir Roud (Roud Number): 31.
- Uimhir Laws (Laws Number): O35.
- Uimhir Child (Child Number): none.
- Cnuasach (Collection): Joe Heaney Collection, University of Washington, Seattle.
- Teanga na Croímhíre (Core-Item Language): English.
- Catagóir (Category): song.
- Ainm an té a thug (Name of Informant): Joe Heaney.
- Ainm an té a thóg (Name of Collector): Susan Auerbach.
- Dáta an taifeadta (Recording Date): 1982.
- Suíomh an taifeadta (Recording Location): University of Washington, United States of America.
- Ocáid an taifeadta (Recording Occasion): private.
- Daoine eile a bhí i láthair (Others present): unavailable.
- Stádas chóipcheart an taifeadta (Recording copyright status): unavailable.
The trees they grow tall, the leaves they grow green
The time has come and passed my love, since you and I have been
It’s a cold and bitter night my love, that I lie here alone
My bonnie boy was young, but he’s gone.
Oh father dearest father, you did to me what’s wrong
When you married me to my bonnie boy, whose age it was so young
For he was scarce sixteen years, and I was twenty one
My bonnie boy was young and growing.
Oh daughter dearest daughter, I did to you no wrong
When I married you to your bonnie boy, I knew he was too young
For he would prove to be a man to you when I was dead and gone
Your bonnie boy was young and growing.
But daughter dearest daughter, I’ll tell you what I’ll do
I’ll send your love to college for another year or two
And whilst he is in college, he’ll wear a ribbon blue
So the girls will all know that he’s married.
As I was walking down by the college wall
I spied four-and-twenty college boys all playing with their ball
It’s there I spied my own true love, the fairest if them all
My bonnie boy was young and growing.
And at the age of sixteen he was a married man
And at the age of seventeen the father of a son
At the age of eighteen years, o’er his grave the grass grew green
Cruel death had put an end to his growing.
I’ll buy my love a shroud of the oriental brown
And whilst I sit and sew it, so my tears they will roll down
I will weep and I will mourn him until the day I die
But I’ll rear his bonnie son, while he’s growing.