I wish, I wish, but it's all in vain
I wish I was a maid again
But a maid again I never can be
Till apples grow on an orange tree
I wish my baby it was born
And smiling on its daddy's knee
Then I would go to yon churchyard
And let the long green grass grow over me
When my apron-strings hung low
He followed me through frost and snow
But now my apron's to my chin
He goes on by and says nothing
Oh grief, oh grief, please tell me why
That girl has more gold than I
More gold than I, more beauty, more fame
Yet for her it will be the same
So I wish, I wish, but it's all in vain
I wish I was a maid again
But a maid again I never can be
Till apples grow on an orange tree

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