Trees They Do Grow High- Corporal Edwards (Taun) 1906

Trees They Do Grow High- Corporal Edwards (Taun) 1906

[From: "The Book of Simple Delights" by Walter Raymond, 275 apges. London: Hodder and Stoughton. 1906. Based on events of Withypool, near Taunton.

An excerpt follows:

R. Matteson 2016]


"Ay, an' Corporal Edwards shall sing a real old song whilst the apples be down on the hearth to roast," cried my landlord. "We'll have a jolly night. My name's John Creed."

The Corporal was willing, and all the others lighted up their pipes. Nature has given him a tenor voice, very light and very sweet. He threw back his head, gazed up at the ceiling, and sang with great feeling:

I.
The trees they do grow high, and the leaves they do grow green;
The time is gone and past, my Love, that you and I have seen.
It's a cold winter night, my Love, when you and I must bide alone.
The bonny lad was young but a-growing.

II.
Oh! Father, dear father, I fear you've done me harm,
You've a-wedded me to a bonny boy, but I fear he is too young.
O daughter, dearest daughter, you shall bide at home wi' me,
An' a lady you shall be, while he's growing.

III.
We will send him to the college for one year or two,
And then maybe in time, my Love, a man may grow.
You shall bind a fine white ribbon round his bonny, bonny waist
To let the maidens know the lad's a-married.

IV.
At the age of sixteen, oh, he was a married man.
At the age of seventeen he was the father of a son.
At the age of eighteen, my Love, his grave it was a-growing green;
And so she saw the end of his growing.

V.
She sewed her love a shroud of the holland, oh, so fine,
And every stitch she put in it, the tears came trickling down.
Oh! once I had a sweetheart, but now I have got never a one;
So fare you well, my own true Love, for ever.

VI.
The trees they do grow high, and the leaves they do grow green;
The time is gone and past, my Love, that you and I have seen.
It's a cold winter night, my Love, when you and I must bide alone.
So fare you well, my own true Love, for ever.

Meanwhile the lamb's-wool was ready and Martin Chedsey poured it around.