The Tyburn tree I weep for thee The Tyburn tree I weep for thee Blood in the roots Tis not a dream with bark and leaves of spring awakening Tis not a dream with blossom and fruits Tis not a dream No boughs to bend beneath the unruly breath of winter No memories of woods warmed by spring's sweet touch Tis not a dream Take a ride to Tyburn and dance the last jig