O the oak and the ash and the bonny birken tree They flourish at home in her own country
A north-country maid up to London had strayed Although with her nature it did not agree She wept and she sighed, and so bitterly she cried: "I wish once again, in the north I could be"
She doesn't like the court, nor to City resort Since there is no fancy for such maids as she Their pomp and their pride she could never abide Because with her humour it does not agree
How oft has she been on the Westmoreland green Where the young men and maidens resort for to play Where they with delight, from morning till night Could feast it and frolic on each holiday
No doubt, did she please, she could marry with ease Where maidens are fair, many lovers will come But he whom she wed must be north-country bred And carry her back to her north-country home