there is a hawthorn on a hill
there is a hawthorn growing
it set its roots against the wind
the worrying wind that's blowing
its berries are red its blossom so white
I thought that it was snowing

there is a hawthorn by a wall
that looks down to the valley
its berries are red its thorns are sharp
it's where we said we'd marry
its berries are red its blossom is white
and the hail makes sharp weather
without her now I'll make my bed
in the bleeding heather

come with me oh come with me
come with me my darling
the berries are red the thorns are sharp
and the corbies are craawing
don't send me out don't cut me down
don't exile me my darling
the thorns turn red kill the blossom dead
and the tethered wind is snarling

there is a hawthorn by a wall
that looks down to the valley
its berries are red its thorns are sharp
it's where we said we'd marry
its berries are red its blossom is white
and the hail makes sharp weather
without her now I'll make my bed
in the bleeding heather