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Green Grows the Laurel

This version is collated from English collections.
The tune is from Yorkshire, England.
MIDI


    When first in this country, a stranger, I came,
    In fair Dublin city, that place of great fame,
    It was my misfortune a fair one to see,
    It was the beginning of my misery.

         Green grows the laurel and sweet falls the dew,
         Sorry I was when I parted from you,
         But by our next meeting I hope you'll prove true,
         And we'll love one another, as lovers should do.

    If I were a clerk and could handle a pen,
    I would write my love a letter, to her I would send,
    Saying, Keep your own love, dear, and I will keep mine,
    Write to your sweetheart, and I'll write to mine.

         Green grow the rushes and the tops of them small,
         And love is a thing that can conquer us all.
         The tulip may wellow, it may fade and die soon,
         But the red rose will flourish in the sweet month of June.

    O can't you love little, o can't you love long,
    Can't you love a new love till your old one returns,
    Can't you say that you love him, his mind for to ease,
    And when his back's turned, can't you love who you please ?

         Green grows the laurel and sweet falls the dew,
         Sorry I was when I parted from you,
         But by our next meeting I hope you'll prove true,
         And we'll love one another, as lovers should do.