Gustav Holst - The Hawthorn Tree - текст песни (слова)

It was a maid of my country
 As she came by a hawthorn tree,
 As full of flow'rs as might be seen,
 She marvelled to see the tree so green,
 
 At last she asked of the tree
 How came this freshness unto thee?
 And every branch so fair and clean!
 I marvel that you grow so green,
 
 The tree made answer by and by,
 I've cause to grow triumphantly
 The sweetest dew that ever be seen
 Doth fall on me to keep me green.
 
 Yes, quoth the maid, but where you grow
 You stand at hand for every blow
 Of every man for to be seen
 I marvel that you grow so green,
 
 Though many one take flowers from me
 And many a branch out of my tree
 I have such store they will not be seen,
 For more and more my twigs grow green,
 
 But how, an they chance to cut thee down,
 And bring thy branches into town?
 Your branches never more be seen,
 To grow again so fresh and green.
 
 Though that you do it is no boot
 Although they cut me to the root,
 Next year again I will be seen
 To bud my branches fresh and green.
 
 And you, fair maid can not do so,
 For when your beauty once does go
 Then will it never more be seen,
 As I my branches can grow green.
 
 The maid with that began to blush
 And turn'd her from the hawthorn bush
 She thought herself so fair and clean,
 Her beauty still would ever grow green.
 
 But after this never I could hear
 Of this fair maiden anywhere
 That ever she was in forest green
 To talk again with the hawthorn green.