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Oh, the trees are growing tall and the nights are growing dim
And many a night and day has passed since you and I have seen
Oh I will make my bed
And I lie in the cold, cold lane
Oh me bonny boy is young, but he's growing

Oh father, dearest father, and you've done me much wrong
For you have married me to a lad who's far too young
Oh, he'd been only sixteen years
And I'd been twenty-one
He's me bonny boy, he's young, but he's growing

Oh daughter, dearest daughter and I've done you no wrong
For I have married you to a noble farmer's son
And he will be a man to you
And you will be his queen
He's your bonny boy, he's young, but he's growing

At the age of sixteen years now he was a married man
And at the age of seventeen, all the father of a son
And at the age of eighteen
On his grave the grass grew green
Cruel death had put an end to his growing

I will buy my love a shroud of the ornamental brown
And while they are sewing it, all the tears they will run down
For once I had my own true love
And now he's lying low
And I'll nurse his bonny boy while he's growing

Oh come all you pretty fair maids, take this advice from me
Don't ever build your nest in the top of any tree
For the leaves they will all wither
And their roots they will decay
And you'll nurse his bonny boy while he's growing

Oh, the trees are growing tall and the nights are growing dim
And many a night and day has passed since you and I have seen
And I will make my bed
In the cold, cold lane
He's me bonny boy, he's young, but he's growing

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