Lyrics
Oliver Cromwell lay buried and dead,
Hee-haw, buried and dead,
There grew an old apple-tree over his head,
Hee-haw, over his head.

The apples were ripe and ready to fall,
Hee-haw, ready to fall,
There came an old woman to gather them all,
Hee-haw, gather them all.

Oliver rose and gave her a drop,
Hee-haw, gave her a drop,
Which made the old woman go hippety hop,
Hee-haw, hippety hop.

The saddle and bridle, they lie on the shelf,
Hee-haw, lie on the shelf,
If you want any more your can sing it yourself,
Hee-haw, sing it yourself.

Copyright: IMAGEM U.S. LLC
Writer(s): BENJAMIN BRITTEN




Videos
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Oliver Cromwell
Set V
arr. Benjamin Britten "Sweet Polly Oliver" (Medium/Low Voice)
Folk Song Arrangements, Vol. 1, "British Isles": No. 2. Little Sir William
Folk Song Arrangements, Vol. 4 "Moore's Irish Melodies": No. 7. Dear harp of my country!
Voici le Printemps
B. Britten Folksong vol. 1; British Isles; O Can Ye Sew Cushions; Alberto M. A. Munafò, sopranista
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