The Oak & the Ash

A North Country maid up to London had strayed,

With her nature it did not agree

She wept and she sighed, and She bitterly cried

I wish in the North I could be

Oh the oak and the ash, and the bonny ivy tree,

They flourish at home in my own country

"While sadly I roam I regret my dear home,

Where the lads and young lasses make hay.

The bells they do ring and the birds they do sing,

The fields and the gardens so gay

Oh the oak and the ash, and the bonny ivy tree,

They flourish at home in my own country.

No doubt, did I please, I could marry with ease,

For where maidens fair many lovers will come,

But the who I wed must be North Country bred,

And carry me back to my home.

Oh the oak and the ash, and the bonny ivy tree,

They flourish at home in my own country