A dainty plant is the Ivy greenThat creepeth o\u27er ruins oldOf right choice food are his mealsI ween in his cell so lone and coldThe wall must be crumbled the stones decayedTo pleasure his dainty whimAnd the mould\u27ring dust that years have madeIs a merry meal for himCreeping where no life is seenA rare old plant is the ivy green Creeping where no life is seen A rare old plant is the ivy green Creeping, creeping, creeping where no life is seen Creeping, creeping a rare old plant is the ivy green
Fast he stealeth though he wears no wingsAnd a stanch old heart has heHow closely he twineth, how closely he clingsTo his friend the huge oak tree!And slyly he traileth along the groundAnd his leaves he gently wavesAs he joyously hugs and crawleth aroundThe mould of dead men\u27s gravesCreeping where grim death had beenA rare old plant is the ivy greenCreeping where no life is seenA rare old plant the ivy greenCreeping, creeping, creeping where no life is seenCreeping, creeping a rare old plant is the ivy green
Whole ages have fled and their works decay\u27dAnd nations have scatter\u27d beenBut the stout old ivy shall never fadeFrom its hale and hearty greenThe brave old plant in its lonely daysShall fatten up on the pastFor the stateliest building men can raiseIs the ivy\u27s food at lastCreeping where no life is seenA rare old plant is the ivy greenCreeping where no life is seen A rare old plant is the ivy greenCreeping, creeping, creeping where no life is seenA rare old plant is the ivy greenCreeping, creeping a rare old plant is the ivy green
