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The Lark in the Morning

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The Lark in the Morning

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The Lark in the Morning

cho: The lark in the morning she rises off her nest
     She goes home in the ev'ning with the dew all on her breast.
     And like the jolly ploughboy, she whistles and she sings
     She goes home in the ev'ning with the dew all on her wings.

Roger the ploughboy, he is a dashing blade
He goes whistling and singing over yonder green glade
He met with pretty Susan, she's handsome I declare
She is far more enticing than the birds all in the air.

One ev'ning coming home from the rakes of the town
The meadows they were green and the grass had been cut down
"If I should chance to tumble all in the new-mown hay
For it's kiss me now or never, love," this bonny lass did say.

When twenty long weeks they were over and were past
Her mammy chanced to notice how she thickened 'round the waist.
"It was the handsome ploughboy," the maiden she did say
"For he caused me for to tumble all in the new-mown hay."

Here's health to young ploughboys wherever you may be
That likes to have a bonny lass a-sitting on his knee
With a jug of good strong porter, you'll whistle and you'll sing,
For a ploughboy is as happy as a prince or a king.

A different version, dealing with the results of the ploughboy's
     handiwork. CH

CH
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