The Trees They Do Grow High

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Also known as 'The College Boy' or 'Young but A'Growing', my version is mainly from Cecil Sharp with amendments gleaned from Stanley Robertson.

singer songwriter acoustic folk british guitarist song celtic traditional fingerstyle scottish scotland guitar kelso

David Kilpatrick

Solo singer-songwriter and tunesmith playing British fingerstyle steel and nylon string guitar, and historic instruments. Scots and Irish influences.

I've been writing and playing songs and tunes since teenage years in folk clubs and pubs. I co-organise the Kelso Friday night live music sessions at the Cross Keys (hosted singaround 7.45-10pm) and Cobbles Inn (10-12pm open mic with The Cobbles Band) with the help of many friends. All welcome! Visit us at kelsofolkandlive co uk. It is worth clicking on the tab because the sound quality of my tracks is far higher than the auto player on this page. Many can be streamed or downloaded at 320KBps and the enhancement for solo guitar/voice far exceeds the benefit you get for highly compressed band recordings. My recordings are full dynamic, not compressed. Just select Hi-Fi for the first song, and an MP3 high bitrate window will open - you will still get a sequence of songs. Most of my downloads are free, but some 320KBps tracks are paid-for. These are selected because they make up my main instrumental album. I now have a YouTube page and have started doing some video recordings for fun: @daviddkilpatrick I have mainly played Lowden guitars since 1999. I current play a 1985 S5FN (nylon string), 1986 S22 (jumbo O-size mahogany/cedar), and 1995 S32 (small body rosewood/spruce). I also play my own 1997-built Martin 'kit' Grand Auditorium rosewood/spruce, a Sigma OM-T, Furch Little Jane, Tacoma Papoose, Guild 8-string baritone, Vintage V880 parlour guitar and Gordon Giltrap signature model, a Troubadour mahogany/spruce classical and an Adam Black 12-string. And that's just the guitars... also viola, mandolin, mandola, waldzither, bouzouki, Appalachian dulcimer, low D whistle, keyboards.

Song Info

Genre

Acoustic • Acoustic Folk

Charts

Peak #154

Peak in subgenre #33

Author

Trad. Arr. David Kilpatrick

Rights

David Kilpatrick

Uploaded

November 25, 2003

Track Files

MP3

MP3 4.3 MB • 128 kbps • 4:43

Story behind the song

This is one of the best-known and oldest folk songs of Britain, with versions in every region. It has migrated to the States with changes to make it easier to understand. This version is played using a fairly crisp steel string guitar accompaniment, and uses the English words with some NE Scottish revision. Specifically, the blue ribbons tied around the wrist and not the 'waist' as often misread; this was a Scottish way of signifying betrothal or marriage. The 'Holland' referred to in the shroud-making was a fabric once woven in the Scottish Borders by Flemish settlers, and popular for sheets.

Lyrics

The trees they do grow high
And the leaves they grow so green
And past and gone are the years my luv
That you and I have seen
It's a cauld winter night my dear
That you and I must bide inside
For the bonny lad is young,
But a-growing

Oh father, dear father, I fear you do my wrong
Ye've married me tae a bonny lad,
But I fear he is too young
Oh daughter, dear daughter
But bide at home a year with me
You'll come to be a lady
While he's growing

We'll send tae the college for a year and a day
And in that time I think you'll find
A man he'll grow to be
I'll buy you blue ribbons, luv
Tae tie aboot his bonny wrists
That the lasses may all know
He's married

At sixteen years of age he was a married man
At seventeen he was the father o' a bonny son
At eighteen years of age the grass was growing green above his grave
For the wars had put an end
To his growing

She'll mak her luv a shroud
O' the Holland oh so fine
And every stitch she puts in it
The tears will run like wine
She'll stay at home and pray for him
Until the day that she does die
And watch all oer his bairn
While it's growing

Oh now my luv is gone
And he in the ground does lie
And the green grass that's ower him
It reaches for the sky
Oh once I had a sweetheart
And now I have got never a one
So faretheewell my luv
For ever

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