The Ash Grove

AO Folksong - OCTOBER 2023 The Ash Grove Oxenford Translation The ash grove, how graceful, how plainly 'tis speaking; The wind through it playing has language for me, Whenever the light through its branches is breaking, A host of kind faces is gazing on me. The friends of my childhood again are before me; Each step wakes a memory as freely I roam. With soft whispers laden the leaves rustle o'er me; The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home. 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 cheerfully singing I first met that dear one, the joy of my heart. Around us for gladness the bluebells were ringing, But then little thought I how soon we should part. My lips smile no more, my heart loses its lightness; No dream of the future my spirit can cheer. I only can brood on the past and its brightness; The dear ones I long for again gather here. From ev'ry dark nook they press forward to meet me; I lift up my eyes to the broad leafy dome, And others are there, looking downward to greet me; The ash grove, the ash grove again is my home. ----- Support us at   / folksandhymns