The Bonny Labouring Boy (2)
As I walked out one morning being in the blooming spring,
I heard a lovely maid complain, so grievously to sing;
Saying, "Cruel was my parents, they did me so annoy,
And will not let me marry with my bonny labouring boy."
Young Johnny was my true love's name as you may plainly see
My parents did employ him their labouring boy to be;
To harrow, reap, to sow the seed to plough my father's land
And soon I fell in love with him as you may understand.
My father stepped up one morning and he seized me by the hand
He swore he'd send young Johnny unto some foreign land.
He locked me in my bedroom, my comfort to annoy
And to keep me there to weep and morn for my bonny labouring boy.
My mother stepped up next morning these words to me did say:
"Your father has intended to appoint your wedding day,"
But I did not make no answer, bor I dared not complain
But until I wed my labouring boy then single I'll remain.
Oh, his cheeks are like the roses, his eyes as black as sloes
He smiles in his behaviour whever my love goes.
He's manly, neat and handsome, his skin as white as snow
In spite of my parents with my labouring boy I'll go.
So fill this glass up to the brim, let the toast come early round,
Here's a health to the labouring boy that ploughs and sows the ground;
And when his work is over, his home he will enjoy
Oh how happy is the girl that weds with a bonny labouring boy.
From Marrow Bones, Purslow
Collected from Robert Barratt, Dorset, 1905