The Trees They Do Grow High

The trees they do grow high, and the leaves they do grow green;
many's the time my true love I have seen.
Many's the hour I've watched him all alone --
he is young, but he's daily growing.

"Father, dear father, you've done to me great wrong:
you have married me to a boy who is too young,
for I am twice twelve and he is but fourteen;
he is young, but he's daily growing."

"Daughter, dear daughter, I've done you no wrong,
for I have married you to a great man's son:
he'll make a lord for you to wait upon;
he is young, but he's daily growing."

"Father, dear father, if it's him you'd have me love,
then send him off to war, his manhood for to prove.
When he returns a hero, no other man I'll have;
he is young, but he's daily growing."

At the age of fourteen, he was a married man,
and at the age of fifteen, the father to a bairn.
At the age of sixteen, the grass grew over him --
he is young, but he's no more growing.

I'll make my love a shroud with a border of brown,
and every stitch I put in it, my tears come tricklin' down;
once I had a true love, but now I've ne'er a one,
but I'll watch o'er his son while he's growing.