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Jolly Plowboy (2)

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The Jolly Plowboy (2)

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The Jolly Plowboy (2)

Come, all you jolly ploughboys, and help me to sing;
I will sing in the praise of you all.
For if we don't labour, how shall there be bread?
I will sing and be merry withal.

There were two loving brothers, two brothers of old
And of old these brothers were born,
The one was a shepherd and tender of sheep
And the other a planter of corn.

We've moiled, we've toiled through mire and through clay
No comfort at all can we find,
We'll sit down, and sing, and drive dull care away
We'll not live in this world to repine.

Here's April, here is May, here is June and July
What a pleasure to see the corn grow!
In August it rip'neth, we reap and sheaves tie
And go down with our scythes for to mow.

Now when we have a-pitched up every sheaf
And a-gleaned up every ear
Without more ado we'll to plough and to sow
To provide for the harvest next year.

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