The trees they grow high, and the leaves they do grow green Many's the time my true love has seen Many-an hour I've 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 am 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 And he will 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 off to college for another year yet I'll tie a blue ribbon 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, playing with a ball And my own true love, he 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 into a hayfield, for to have some sport-and-play And what they did there, well, 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 my 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, I'll make my love a shroud And every stitch I put in it, the tears, they'll pour down And every stitch I put in it, how the tears, they will flow Cruel fate has put an end to his growing