The Ash Grove

The ash grove, how graceful

How plainly 'tis speaking

The harp 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

Its leaves rustle o'er me

The ash grove, the ash grove

Alone is my home

My lips smile no more

My heart loses its lightness

No dream of the future

My spirit can cheer

I only would brood

On the past and its brightness

The dead I have mourned

Are again living here

From every dark nook

They press forward to meet me

I lift up my eyes

To the broad leafy dome

And others are there

Looking downwards to greet me

The ash grove, the ash grove

Alone is my home

• Artist:Roger Whittaker
• Album:"Folk Songs"