Sir Orfeo was a valiant knight
A knight of high degree
He fell in love with a lady fair
Beneath the orchard tree
He played upon his harp so sweet
His voice was pure and true
And she has fallen deep in love
With brave Sir Orfeo
As it fell out all on a day
The sun was riding high
This lady took a pleasant sleep
Beneath the orchard tree
But as she lay a-sleeping there
She dreamed a dreadful dream:
The King of the elves stole her away
To take her for his queen
The oak and the ash and the bonny apple tree
All blossom and bloom in my own country
Sir Orfeo is a-hunting gone
Down in the woods so green
A-picking flowers and berries so sweet
To take unto his queen
And as the sun was setting low
To the garden he's come home
A-calling for his own true love
But true love he found none
A-searching high and searching low
For fifty days went he
Until at last he wept and mourned
Beneath the orchard tree
The oak and the ash and the bonny apple tree
All blossom and bloom in my own country
Sir Orfeo is a-wandering gone
Down in the woods so green
A-weeping long and weeping sore
For his poor lost stolen queen
No costly robes upon his back
No signs of wealth or pride
Nought but rags and leather bags
And his harp down by his side
Sir Orfeo is a-wandering gone
Through ice and rain and sleet
His beard has grown so long and grey
That it twists about his feet
His nails are grown like ravens' claws
His hair like knotted oak
For years he wept and sang his song
But not one word he spoke
The oak and the ash and the bonny apple tree
All blossom and bloom in my own country
One day as he played on his harp so sweet
And sang his sad refrain
There came a host from Elfinland
All in their fairy train
The King of Elfland blew his horn
To make the elf train go
But as they passed, a fearful sight
Saw brave Sir Orfeo
For in the midst of the elfin host
Locked in a cage so strong
He saw his love imprisoned there
All among the elven throng
And filled with fear and love and hope
And hatred for his foe
To follow that deadly elven train
Rode brave Sir Orfeo
The oak and the ash and the bonny apple tree
All blossom and bloom in my own country
There's fifty lords and ladies fair
Stood in the elven hall
There's not one soul can please the King
When he for music calls
There's not one soul can please the King
When he calls for a song
Up stands our brave Sir Orfeo
"I won't detain you long"
He played upon his harp so sweet
His voice was pure and true
The finest song in all the land
Played brave Sir Orfeo
“Your music so entrances me
The gift I must repay
Name now your prize in all this land:
Your choice I must obey"
“I'll take not land, nor jewels nor gold
Nor yet your steed to ride
But this fair lady I do claim
For she is my love and bride"
The oak and the ash and the bonny apple tree
All blossom and bloom in my own country
Sir Orfeo is a-riding gone
With his bride all by his side
They rode till they came to his castle wall
“Our Lady's home,” he cried
There's twenty guards drew fast around
To lift the lady down
They've dragged our brave Sir Orfeo
To be locked fast underground
There's not one soul believes his tale
Or sees through his rough disguise
They locked him fast in prison strong
Despite his lady's cries
Then up and stepped a little foot page
To test the tale so true
He gave him a harp and bid him to play
Sir Orfeo's own tune
He's played upon his harp so sweet
His voice was pure and true
Up spoke the court in one accord
To greet Sir Orfeo
They filled the hall with music fair
The tables weighed with food
For fifty days and fifty nights
They blessed all that was good
The oak and the ash and the bonny apple tree
All blossom and bloom in my own country