O Father I fancy I'm wondrous fair!
The stairs they broke, and the maid fell in,
You're fair enough now, said Tommy a' Lynn.
All to my tooth, &c.
6
Tommy a' Lynn, his wife and her mother
They all fell into the fire together.
Ow yow! said the upper-most, I've a hot skin,
It's hotter below! said Tommy a' Lynn.
All to my tooth, &c.
[Footnote 10: There is another verse, but it would make the song over
long to sing it.
Tommy a' Lynn had no watch to put on,
So he scooped out a turnip to make himself one;
He caught a cricket, and put it within.
It's a rare old ticker, said Tommy a' Lynn.]
No. 43 THE GREEN BUSHES
H.F.S.
[Music]
1
As I was a walking one morning in May,
To hear the birds whistle, see lambkins at play,
I spied a fair damsel, O sweetly sang she--
'Down by the green bushes he thinks to meet me.'
2
'O where are you going, my sweet pretty maid?'
'My lover I'm seeking, kind sir', she said.
'Shall I be your lover, and will you agree,
To forsake the old love, and forgather with me?
3
'I'll buy you fine beavers, a gay silken gown,
With furbelowed petticoats flounced to the ground,
If you'll leave your old love, and following me,
Forsake the green bushes, where he waits for thee?'
4
'Quick, let us be moving, from under the trees,
Quick, let us be moving, kind sir, if you please;
For yonder my true love is coming, I see,
Down by the green bushes he thinks to meet me.'
5
The old love arrived, the maiden was gone
He sighed very deeply, he sighed all alone,
'She is on with another, before off with me,
So, adieu ye green bushes for ever!' said he.
6
'I'll be as a schoolboy, I'll frolic and play,
No false hearted maiden shall trouble my day,
Untroubled at night, I will slumber and snore,
So, adieu, ye green bushes! I'll fool it no more.'
No. 44 THE BROKEN TOKEN
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
One summer evening, a maiden fair
Was walking forth in the balmy air,
She met a sailor upon the way;
'Maiden stay' he whispered,
'Maiden stay' he whispered
'O pretty maiden, stay!'
2
'Why art thou walking abroad alone?
The stars are shining, the day is done,'
O then her tears they began to flow;
For a dark eyed sailor,
For a dark eyed sailor
Had filled her heart with woe.
3
'Three years are pass'd since he left this land,
A ring of gold he took off my hand,
He broke the token, a half to keep,
Half he bade me treasure,
Half he bade me treasure,
Then crossed the briny deep.'
4
'O drive him damsel from out your mind,
For men are changeful as is the wind,
And love, inconstant will quickly grow
Cold as winter morning
Cold as winter morning
When lands are white with snow.'
5
'Above the snow is the holly seen,
In bitter blast it abideth green,
And blood-red drops it as berries bears
So my aching bosom,
So my aching bosom,
Its truth and sorrow wears.'
6
Then half the ring did the sailor show,
Away with weeping and sorrow now!
'In bands of marriage united we
Like the broken Token
Like the broken Token
In one shall welded be.'
No. 45 THE MOLE-CATCHER.
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
A mole-catcher am I, and that is my trade,
I potters about wi' my spunt and my spade,
On a moon-shiny night, O! 'tis my delight,
A-catching o' moles.
2
The traps that I set for the mole in his run,
There's never a night, sirs, but I catches one.
On a moon-shiny night, O! 'tis my delight,
A-catching o' moles.
3
Along of the lanes as by night-time I go,
There's things that I see, as the folks don't know,
On a moon-shiny night, &c.
4
There's frolic and lark in the field and the park,
For others than moles will be out in the dark,
On a moon-shiny night, &c.
5
The maiden by day that's too modest to speak
Is gadding abroad, by the night all the week,
On a moon-shiny night, &c.
6
The 'prentice who should be a lying in bed
Is rambling over the meadows instead,
On a moon-shiny night, &c.
7[11]
I light on the poacher wi' sniggle and snare,
But that I'll not peach he is surely aware,
On a moon-shiny night, &c.
8
The doctor and lawyer as drunk as a dog,
Are wallowing into a ditch or a bog,
On a moon-shiny night, &c.
9
There's many a sight; and there's many a sound
Wot maketh me laugh as I'm making my round,
On a moon-shiny night, &c.
10
But nothing I sez for I'm mum as a bell,
You certainly know that no tales will I tell,
On a moon-shiny night, O! 'tis my delight,
A-catching o' moles
Not human souls.
[Footnote 11: May be omitted in singing.]
No. 46 THE KEENLY LODE
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
Old Uncle Pengerric a Captain was,
A dowser shrewd was he;
Who feathered his nest from the keenly lode
That ruined you and me.
The Captain was traversing Brandy Moor,
With hazel twig in hand,
The hazel twisted and turned about
And brought him to a stand.
CHORUS. Oh! the keenly lode, the keenly lode
Of bâlls the best, my boys;
Old Uncle Pengerric very well know'd
How to feather his nest, my boys.
2
Old Uncle Pengerric so big did brag
Of ore in Brandy Bâll,
"Come fork out your money my Christian friends,
Your fortunes treble all."
Now Uncle was reckoned a preacher stout,
A burning and shining light.
The people all said, "What he has in head
Will surely turn out right."
CHORUS. Oh! the keenly lode, &c.
3
The Company floated, the Shares up paid,
The gold came flowing in.
He set up a whim, and began to sink
For the keenly lode of tin.
He had not burrowed but five foot six
'Ere he came to a buried hoss.
Said Uncle Pengerric, "No fault of mine,
Tho't turn out some one's loss."
CHORUS. Oh! the keenly lode, &c.
4
The shaft descended, but ne'er a grain
Of ore was brought to ground.
And presently Uncle Pengerric too,
Was not in Cornwall found.
But wherever he goes, and whenever he talks,
He says:--"The rod told true,
It brought to me luck, but it turn'd and struck
At nought but an old horse-shoe."
CHORUS. Oh! the keenly lode, &c.
Note: A Keenly Lode is a Lode that promises well.
A Bâll is the Cornish for a mine.
No. 47 MAY-DAY CAROL
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
Awake, ye pretty maids, awake,
Refreshed from drowsy dream,
And haste to dairy house, and take
For us a dish of cream.
2
If not a dish of yellow cream,
Then give us kisses three;
The woodland bower is white with flower,
And green is every tree.
3
A branch of May we bear about
Before the door it stands;
There's not a sprout unbudded out,
The work of God's own hands.
4
Awake, awake ye pretty maids,
And take the May-bush in,
Or 'twill be gone ere tomorrow morn,
And you'll have none within.
5
Throughout the night, before the light,
There fell the dew or rain,
It twinkles bright on May bush white,
It sparkles on the plain.
6
The heavenly gates are open wide
To let escape the dew,
And heavenly grace falls on each place
It drops on us and you.
7
The life of man is but a span,
He blossoms as a flower,
He makes no stay, is here to-day,
And vanish'd in an hour.[12]
8
My song is done, I must be gone,
Nor make a longer stay.
God bless you all, both great and small,
And send you gladsome May.
[Footnote 12: Verses 6 & 7, and there have been others of like
moralising nature, were added when the character of the May-Day visit
was altered from one of lovers to their sweet-hearts into one of
children seeking May-Gifts. Then the 'Kisses three' were changed to
'Pennies one or three.']
No. 48 THE LOVER'S TASKS
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
_He:_ O buy me, my Lady, a cambric shirt
Whilst every grove rings with a merry antine
(_antienne anthem_)
And stitch it without any needle work
And thou shalt be a true lover of mine.
2
O thou must wash it in yonder well,
Whilst every grove &c.
Where never a drop of water in fell,
And thou shalt &c.
3
And thou must bleach it on yonder grass,
Whilst every grove &c.
Where never a foot or hoof did pass.
And thou shalt &c.
4
And thou must hang it upon a white thorn,
Whilst every grove &c.
That never blossom'd since Adam was born
And thou shalt &c.
5
And when these works are finished and done
Whilst every grove &c.
I'll take and marry thee under the sun.
And thou shalt &c.
6[13]
_She:_ Thou must buy for me an acre of land,
Whilst every grove &c.
Between the salt sea and the yellow sand
And thou shalt &c.
7
Thou must plough it o'er with a horses horn
Whilst every grove &c.
And sow it over with a pepper corn,
And thou shalt &c.
8
Thou must reap it, too, with a piece of leather,
Whilst every grove &c.
And bind it up with a peacock's feather,
And thou shalt &c.
9
Thou must take it up in a bottomless sack,
Whilst every grove &c.
And bear it to the mill on a butterfly's back.
And thou shalt &c.
10
And when these works are finished and done
Whilst every grove &c.
I'll take and marry thee under the sun.
And thou shalt &c.
[Footnote 13: All the second part may be omitted.]
No. 49 LULLABY
H.F.S.
[Music]
1
Sleep, baby sleep!
Dad is not nigh,
Tossed on the deep,
Lul-lul-a-by!
Moon shining bright,
Dropping of dew.
Owls hoot all night
To-whit! to-whoo!
2
Sleep, baby sleep!
Dad is away,
Tossed on the deep,
Looking for day.
In the hedge row
Glow-worms alight,
Rivulets flow,
All through the night.
3
Sleep, baby sleep!
Dad is afar,
Tossed on the deep,
Watching a star.
Clock going--tick,
Tack--in the dark.
On the hearth-brick,
Dies the last spark.
4
Sleep, baby sleep!
What! not a wink!
Dad on the deep,
What will he think?
Baby dear, soon
Daddy will come,
Bringing red shoon
For baby at home.
No. 50 THE GIPSY COUNTESS
PART I.
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
There came an Earl a riding by,
A gipsy maid espyed he;
"O nut-brown maid, from green-wood glade,
O prithee come along with me."
"In green-wood glade, fair Sir!" she said,
"I am so blythe, as bird so gay.
In thy castle tall, in bower and hall,
I fear for grief I'd pine away."
2
"Thou shalt no more be set in stocks,
And tramp about from town to town,
But thou shalt ride in pomp and pride
In velvet red and broidered gown."
"My brothers three no more I'd see,
If that I went with thee, I trow.
They sing me to sleep, with songs so sweet,
They sing as on our way we go."
3
"Thou shalt not be torn by thistle and thorn,
With thy bare feet all in the dew.
But shoes shall wear of Spanish leather
And silken stockings all of blue."
"I will not go to thy castle high,
For thou wilt weary soon, I know,
Of the gipsy maid, from green-wood glade,
And drive her forth in rain and snow."
4
"All night you lie neath the starry sky
In rain and snow you trudge all day,
But thy brown head, in a feather bed,
When left the gipsies, thou shalt lay."
"I love to lie 'neath the starry sky,
I do not heed the snow and rain,
But fickle as wind, I fear to find
The man who now my heart would gain."
5
"I will thee wed, sweet maid," he said,
"I will thee wed with a golden ring,
Thy days shall be spent in merriment;
For us the marriage bells shall swing."
The dog did howl, and screech'd the owl,
The raven croaked, the night-wind sighed;
The wedding bell from the steeple fell,
As home the Earl did bear his bride.
No. 50 THE GIPSY COUNTESS
PART II.
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
Three Gipsies stood at the Castle gate,
They sang so high, they sang so low,
The lady sate in her chamber late,
Her heart it melted away as snow,
Away as snow,
Her heart it melted away as snow.
2
They sang so sweet; they sang so shrill,
That fast her tears began to flow.
And she laid down her silken gown,
Her golden rings, and all her show,
All her show &c.
3[14]
She plucked off her high-heeled shoes,
A-made of Spanish leather, O.
She would in the street; with her bare, bare feet;
All out in the wind and weather, O.
Weather, O! &c.
4
She took in hand but a one posie,
The wildest flowers that do grow.
And down the stair went the lady fair,
To go away with the gipsies, O!
The gipsies, O! &c.
5
At past midnight her lord came home,
And where his lady was would know;
The servants replied on every side,
She's gone away with the gipsies, O!
The gipsies, O! &c.
6[15]
Then he rode high, and he rode low,
And over hill and vale, I trow,
Until he espied his fair young bride,
Who'd gone away with the gipsies, O!
The gipsies, O! &c.
7[16]
O will you leave your house and lands,
Your golden treasures for to go,
Away from your lord that weareth a sword,
To follow along with the gipsies, O!
The gipsies, O! &c.
8
O I will leave my house and lands,
My golden treasures for to go,
I love not my lord that weareth a sword,
I'll follow along with the gipsies, O!
The gipsies, O! &c.
9
'Nay, thou shalt not!' then he drew, I wot,
The sword that hung at his saddle bow,
And once he smote on her lily-white throat,
And there her red blood down did flow
Down did flow, &c.
10
Then dipp'd in blood was the posie good,
That was of the wildest flowers that blow.
She sank on her side, and so she died,
For she would away with the gipsies, O!
The gipsies, O!
For she would away with the gipsies O!
[Footnote 14: In singing, these may be omitted.]
[Footnote 15: In singing, these may be omitted.]
[Footnote 16: In singing, these may be omitted.]
No. 51 THE GREY MARE
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
Young Roger, the Miller, went courting of late
A farmer's sweet daughter called Beautiful Kate;
Now Kitty was buxom, and bonny and fair,
Had plenty of humour, of frolic a share,
And her father possessed an uncommon grey mare,
A grey mare, a grey mare,
An uncommon grey mare.
2
So Roger he dressed himself up as a beau,
He comb'd down his locks, and in collars of snow,
He went to the farmer, and said, "How d'y do?
I love pretty Kitty, to her I'll prove true;
Will you give me the grey mare and Katherine too,
The grey mare, the grey mare &c.
3
"She's a very nice maiden, a-courting I'm come.
Lawks! how I would like the grey mare to ride home!
I love your sweet daughter so much I declare,
I'm ready my mill--and my stable--to share,
With Kitty the charming, and with the grey mare,
The grey mare, the grey mare &c."
4
"You're welcome to her, to her hand and her heart,
But from the grey mare, man, I never will part."
So said the old farmer,--then Roger, "I swear,
It is up with my courting, for Kate I don't care,
Unless I be given as well the grey mare.
The grey mare, the grey mare &c."
5
The years had pass'd swiftly, when withered and grey,
Old Roger, the Miller, met Katherine one day,
Said he, "I remember you, buxom and fair,
As roses your cheeks and as broom was your hair
And I came a courting!--Ah, Kate! the grey mare,
The grey mare, the grey mare &c."
6
"I remember your coming to court the grey mare
Very well, Mr. Roger, when golden my hair,
And cheeks were as roses that bloom on the wall.
But, lawks! Mr. Roger,--I can not recall
That e'er you came sweet-hearting _me_, man, at all,
But the mare, the grey mare
That uncommon grey mare."
No. 52 THE WRECK OFF SCILLY
H.F.S.
[Music]
1
Come all you brisk young sailors bold
That plough the raging main,
A tragedy I will unfold
In story sad and plain.
From my true love 'twas pressed was I
The gallant ship to steer
To Indies west,--each heart beat high
With confidence and cheer.
2
A year was gone, and home at last,
We turn'd with swelling sail,
When--'ere the Scilly over-passed
There broke on us a gale.
The boatswain up aloft did go.
He went aloft so high.
More angry did the ocean grow,
More menacing the sky.
3
To make the stripe in vain we tried
The Scilly rocks to clear,
The thunder of the furious tide
Was filling every ear.
There came a sharp and sudden shock,--
Each thought of wife and home!
The gallant ship was on a rock,
And swept with wave and foam.
4
Of eighty seamen 'prised the crew,
But one did reach the shore,
The gallant vessel, good and true,
Was shattered aft and fore.
The news to Plymouth swift did fly,
That our good ship was gone;
And wet with tears was many an eye,
And many a widow lone.
5
And when I came to Plymouth sound
Alive, of eighty dead,
My pretty love, then false I found
And to a landsman wed.
O gentles all that live on land
Be-think the boys at sea,
Lo! here I stand with cap in hand,
And crave your charity.
No. 53 HENRY MARTYN
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
In merry Scotland, in merry Scotland,
There lived brothers three,
They all did cast lots which of them should go,
A robbing upon the salt sea.
2
The lot it fell upon Henry Martyn,
The youngest of the three,
That he should go rob on the salt, salt sea,
To maintain his brothers and he.
3
He had not a sailed a long winter's night,
Nor yet a short winter's day,
Before he espied the King's gallant ship,
Come sailing along that way.
4
How far, how far, cried Henry Martyn,
How far are you going? said he
For I am a robber upon the salt seas,
To maintain my brothers and me.
5
Stand off, stand off! the Captain he cried,
The lifeguards they are aboard.
My cannons are loaden with powder and shot;
And every man hath a sword.
6
For three long hours they merrily fought,
For hours they fought full three.
And many a blow it dealt many a wound,
As they fought on the salt, salt sea.
7
Twas broadside against a broadside then,
And at it, the which should win,
A shot in the gallant ship bored a hole,
And then did the water rush in.
8
Bad news! bad news, for old England
Bad news has come to the town,
The king his vessel is wrecked and lost,
An all his brave soldiers drown.
9
Bad news! bad news through the London street!
Bad news has come to the King,
The lives of his guard they be all a lost,
O the tidings be sad that I bring.
10
O had I a twisted rope of hemp,
A bowstring strong though thin;
I'd soon hang him up to his middle yard arm,
And have done with Henry Martyn.
No. 54 PLYMOUTH SOUND
H.F.S.
[Music]
1
O the fair town of Plymouth is by the sea-side,
The Sound is so blue, and so still and so wide,
Encircled with hills and with forests all green,
As a crown of fresh leaves on the head of a queen,
O dear Plymouth town, and O blue Plymouth Sound!
O where is your equal on Earth to be found.
2
O the maidens of Plymouth are comely and sweet,
So mirthful of eye and so nimble of feet,
I love all the lasses of Plymouth so well,
That the which I love best not a prophet can tell.
O dear Plymouth town, &c.
3
O the bells of old Plymouth float over the bay,
My heart it does melt, as I'm sailing away.
O be they a ringing when I do return,
With thoughts matrimonial my bosom will burn.
O dear Plymouth town, &c.
4
For the maidens of Plymouth my love is so hot,
With a bushel of rings I would marry the lot.
But as I can't marry them all, well-a-day!
Perhaps it's as well that I'm sailing away.
O dear Plymouth town, &c.
No. 55 THE FOX
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
The fox went out one winter night,
And prayed the moon to give him light,
For he'd many a mile to go that night,
Before he reached his den, O!
Den, O! Den, O!
For he'd many a mile to go that night,
For he'd many a mile to go that night,
Before he reached his den, O!
2
At last he came to a farmer's yard,
Where ducks and geese were all afear'd,
"The best of you all shall grease my beard,
Before I leave the Town O!
Town, O! Town, O!
The best of you all &c."
3
He took the grey goose by the neck,
He laid a duck across his back,
And heeded not their quack! quack! quack!
The legs of all dangling down, O!
Down, O! Down, O!
And heeded not &c.
4
Then old mother Slipper Slopper jump'd out of bed
And out of the window she pop't her head,
Crying "Oh! John, John! the grey goose is dead,
And the fox is over the down, O!"
Down, O! Down, O!
Crying "O John, John &c."
5
Then John got up to the top o' the hill,
And blew his horn both loud and shrill,
"Blow on" said Reynard, "your music still,
Whilst I trot home to my den, O!"
Den, O! Den, O!
"Blow on" said Reynard &c.
6
At last he came to his cosy den,
Where sat his young ones, nine or ten.
Quoth they, "Daddy, you must go there again,
For sure, 'tis a lucky town, O!"
Town, O! Town, O!
Quoth they, "Daddy, &c."
7
The fox and wife without any strife,
They cut up the goose without fork or knife,
And said 'twas the best they had eat in their life,
And the young ones pick'd the bones, O!
Bones, O! Bones, O!
And said 'twas the best, &c.
No. 56 FURZE BLOOM
H.F.S.
[Music]
1
There's not a cloud a sailing by,
That does not hold a shower;
There's not a furze-bush on the moor,
That doth not put forth flower.
About the roots we need not delve,
The branches need not prune,
The yellow furze will ever flower,
And ever love's in tune!
When the furze is out of flower,
Then love is out of tune.
2
There's not a season of the year,
Nor weather hot nor cold,
In windy spring, in watery fall,
But furze is clad in gold.
It blossoms in the falling snow,
It blazes bright in June,
And love, like it, is always here,
And ever opportune.
When the furze is out of flower,
Then love is out of tune.
3[17]
There's not a saucy lad I wot,
With light and roguish eye,
That doth not love a pretty lass,
And kiss her on the sly,
There's not a maiden in the shire
From Hartland Point to Brent,
In velvet, or in cotton gown,
That will his love resent.
When the furze is out of flower,
Then love is out of tune.
4
Beside the fire with toasted crabs,
We sit and love is there,
In merry spring, with apple flowers,
It flutters in the air.
At harvest when we toss the sheaves,
Then Love with them is toss't.
At fall when nipp'd and sere the leaves,
Unnipp't is Love by frost.
When the furze is out of flower,
Then love is out of tune.
[Footnote 17: May be omitted in singing.]
No. 57 THE OXEN PLOUGHING
H.F.S.
[Music]
1
Prithee lend your jocund voices,
For to listen we're agreed:
Come sing of songs the choicest,
Of the life the ploughboys lead.
There are none that live so merry
As the ploughboy does in Spring
When he hears the sweet birds whistle
And the nightingales to sing.
With my Hump-a-long! Jump-a-long!
Here drives my lad along!
Pretty, Sparkle, Berry
Good-luck, Speedwell, Cherry!
We are the lads that can follow the plough.
2
For it's, O my little ploughboy
Come awaken in the morn,
When the cock upon the dunghill
Is a-blowing of his horn.
Soon the sun above Brown Willy,[18]
With his golden face will show;
Therefore hasten to the linney
Yoke the oxen to the plough.
With my Hump-a-long! &c.
3
In the heat of the daytime
It's but little we can do.
We will lie beside our oxen
For an hour, or for two.
On the banks of sweet violets,
I'll take my noontide rest,
And it's I can kiss a pretty girl
As hearty as the best.
With my Hump a long! &c.
4
When the sun at eve is setting
And the shadows fill the vale,
Then our throttles we'll be wetting,
With the farmer's humming ale.
And the oxen home returning
We will send into the stall.
Where the logs and turf are burning,
We'll be merry ploughboys all.
With my Hump a long! &c.
5
O the farmer must have seed, sirs,
Or I swear he cannot sow.
And the miller with his mill wheel
Is an idle man also.
And the huntsman gives up hunting,
And the tradesman stands aside,
And the poor man bread is wanting,
So 'tis we for all provide.
With my Hump a long! &c.
[Footnote 18: Or any other suitable hill.]
No. 58 FLORA, THE LILY OF THE WEST
C.J.S.
[Music: in D minor]
1
'Twas when I came to England, some pleasures for to find,
There I espied a damsel most pleasing to my mind;
Her rosy cheeks and shining eyes as arrows pierced my breast,
Her name was lovely Flora, the Lily of the West.
2
Her golden hair in ringlets hung, her dress was spangled o'er;
She'd rings on every finger, brought from a foreign shore;
'Twould ruin kings and princes, so richly was she dress'd,
She far excelleth Venus, this Lily of the West.
3
I courted her a fortnight, in hopes her love to gain,
But soon she turn'd against me, which caused all my pain.
She robb'd me of my freedom, she robb'd me of my rest,
I roam, forsook of Flora, the Lily of the West.
4
Alas! where'er I wander, however much I will,
The thought of that fair maiden abideth with me still;
For ever I am downcast, for ever sore oppress'd,
An outcast e'er from Flora, the Lily of the West.
No. 58 FLORA, THE LILY OF THE WEST
C.J.S.
[Music: in G Major]
1
'Twas when I came to England, some pleasure for to find,
There I espied a damsel most pleasing to my mind;
Her rosy cheeks and shining eyes as arrows pierced my breast,
Her name was Lovely Flora, the Lily of the West.
2
Her golden hair in ringlets hung, her dress was spangled o'er;
She'd rings on every finger, brought from a foreign shore;
'Twould ruin kings and princes, so richly was she dress'd,
She far excelleth Venus, this Lily of the West.
3
I courted her a fortnight, in hopes her love to gain,
But soon she turn'd against me, which caused all my pain.
She robb'd me of my freedom, she robb'd me of my rest,
I roam, forsook of Flora, the Lily of the West.
4
Alas! where'er I wander, however much I will
The thought of that fair maiden abideth with me still;
For ever I am downcast, for ever am oppress'd,
An outcast e'er from Flora, the Lily of the West.
No. 59 THE SIMPLE PLOUGHBOY
C.J.S.
[Music]
1
O the Ploughboy was a ploughing
With his horses on the plain,
And was singing of a song as on went he.
"Since that I have fall'n in love,
If the parents disapprove,
'Tis the first thing that will send me to the sea."
2
When the parents came to know
That their daughter loved him so,
Then they sent a gang, and pressed him for the sea.
And they made of him a tar,
To be slain in cruel war;
Of the simple Ploughboy singing on the lea.
3