Oh, the oak and the ash
Oh, the oak and the ash
And the bonny ivy tree
A North Country lass
Up to London did pass
Although with her nature it did not agree
And she wept and she sighed
And she wrung her hands and cried
How I wish once again in the North I could be
Where the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
All flourish at home in my North country
How sadly I roam
And lament my dear home
Where lads and lasses are making the hay
Where the bells they do ring
And the small birds do sing
And the fields and the gardens are pleasant and gay
Where the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
All flourish at home in my North country
When I had the heart
From my friends to depart
I thought I should be a strong person at last
But now I do find
That it troubles my mind
Because that my joys and my pleasures are past
Where the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
All flourish at home in my North country
Oh, the oak and the ash
And the bonny ivy tree