| The trees they grow high
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| The leaves they do grow green
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| Many is the time my true love I’ve seen
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| Many an hour I have watched him all alone
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| He’s young
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| But he’s daily growing
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| Father, dear father
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| You’ve done me great wrong
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| You have married me to a boy who is too young
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| I’m twice twelve and he is but fourteen
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| He’s young
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| But he’s daily growing
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| Daughter, dear daughter
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| I’ve done you no wrong
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| I have married you to a great lord’s son
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| He’ll make a lord for you to wait upon
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| He’s young
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| But he’s daily growing
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| Father, dear father, if you see fit
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| We’ll send him to college for one year yet
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| I’ll tie blue ribbons all around his head
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| To let the maidens know that he’s married
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| One day I was looking o’er my father’s castle wall
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| I spied all the boys as playing with the ball
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| My own true love was the flower of them all
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| He’s young, but he’s daily growing
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| At the age of fourteen, he was a married man
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| At the age of fifteen, the father of a son
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| At the age of sixteen, his grave it was green
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| And death had put an end to his growing |