A north country maid up to London has strayed All though with her nature it did not agree And she's wept and she's sighed And she's wrung her hands and cried, Oh I wish once again in the north I could be.
Chorus: For the oak and the ash, And the bonny ivy tree All flourish and bloom In my north country.
How sadly I roamed And lament my dear home, Where lads and lasses are making the hay Where the bells they do ring And the little birds do sing, And the maidens and meadows are pleasant and gay.
No doubt if I please, I could marry with ease For where bonnie lasses are, lovers will come But the lad that I wed, must be North country bred, And must carry me back to my North country home.