As I was walking by yonder church wall.
I saw four and twenty young men a-playing at the ball.
I asked for my own true love but they wouldn't let him come.
For they said the boy was young but a-growing.
Father dear father you've done me much wrong.
You've tied me to a boy when you know he is too young.
But he will make a lord for you to wait upon.
And a lady you will be while he's growing.
We'll send him to college for one year or two.
And maybe in time the boy will do for you.
I'll buy you white ribbons to tie around his waist.
For to let the ladies know that he's married.
The trees they do grow high and the leaves they do grow green.
The day is passed and gone my love that you and I have seen.
It's on a cold winter's night that I must lie alone.
For the bonny boy is young but a-growing.
At the age of sixteen he was a married man.
And at the age of seventeen the father to a son.
And at the age of eighteen his grave it did grow green.
Cruel dead had put an end to his growing.
Writer(s): Robert Johnson, Maddy Prior, Tim Hart, Peter Knight, Rick Kemp, Nigel Pegrum
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