many a cold and winter night that i alone have been. it is a cold and cruel night when i must lie alone
the bonny boy is young
but he is growing. oh! father
dear father i think you done me wrong
to go and get me married to one who is so young. for he is only sixteen years and i am twenty-one. the bonny boy is young but he's growing. oh! daughter
dear daughter
i did not do you wrong
for i have married you to a rich man's son
and he shall be a match for thee when i am dead and gone. he is young
but he is daily growing. oh! father
dear father
i'll tell you what i'll do;
i'll send the boy to college for another year or two;
and all around his college cap
i'll bind a ribbon blue
for to let the ladies know that he's married. a year it went by and i passed the college wall
and saw the young collegians a-playing at the ball;
amidst them was my own true love
the fairest of them all
he was young but he was daily growing. at the age of sixteen he was a married man
and at the age of seventeen he was the father of a son
at the age of eighteen
his grave had all grown green;
and the death put an end to his growing. i'll make my love a shroud of ornamental brown;