Peter Bellamy
Oh the grass in the meadow, the reeds by the mere, The sad boom of the bittern is all that I hear. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore Cry: ? You never shall sit by your loved-ones no more. ? When I was a young girl the world did seem gay, But these cruel hard times do drive comfort away. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore Cry: ? You never shall dance with your sweetheart no more. ? Once I gathered wild flowers in the sweet countryside, But my garlands have withered, my posies have died. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore Cry: ? You never shall lie by your husband no more. ? Once I went a-courting, but now my man’s gone, Once I was a mother, but now I’m alone. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore Cry: ? You never shall walk with your men-folk no more. ? Come all you young women that’s free from all care, Don’t you ever get married, all sorrows lies there. For the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore Cry: ? The heart that is given no man may restore. ? Now the fields are all empty, the hedgerows are bare, Only wild desolation is all I find there. I’ll go down to the river to ease all my pain And ? who knows, but I might find my dear ones again. ?