The trees they do grow high
And the leaves they do grow green
But the time is gone and passed, my love
That you and I have seen
It's a cold winter's night, my love
When you and I must bide alone
The bonny was young but a-growing

Oh father, dear father
I fear you've done me harm
You've married me to a bonny boy
But I fear he is too young

Oh daughter, dearest daughter
But if you stay at home with me
A lady you shall be while he's growing

We'll send him to the college
For one year or two
And then, perhaps in time, my love
A man he may grow
I will buy you white ribbons to tie about his bonny waist
To let the ladies know that he's married

At the age of sixteen
Oh, he was a married man
At the age of seventeen
He was the father of a son
At the age of eighteen, my love
His grave it was a-growing green
And so she saw the end of his growing

I made my love a shroud of the Holland wool so fine
And every stitch I put in it the tears came twinkling down
And I will sit and mourn his fate
Until the day that I shall die
And watch all o'er his child
While it's growing

Oh, now my love is dead
And in his grave doth lie
The green grass that's o'er him groweth up so high
Oh, once I had a sweetheart
But now I have got never a one
So fair you well, my own true love, forever