the ash grove

down yonder green valley where streamlets meander

when twilight is fading

i pensively rove

or at the bright noontide in solitude wander

amid the dark shades of the lonely ash grove. 'twas there while the blackbird was joyfully singing

i first met my dear one

the joy of my heart;

around us for gladness the bluebells were ringing

ah! then little thought i how soon we should part. still grows the bright sunshine o'er valley and mountain

still warbles the blackbird his note from the tree;

still trembles the moonbeam on streamlet and fountain

but what are the beauties of nature to me. with sorrow

deep sorrow

my bosom is laden

all day i go mourning in search of my love. ye echoes

o tell me

where is the sweet maiden?

she sleeps 'neath the green turf down by the ash grove.