Ploughman

 

Verse 1

Come all you bold ploughmen,
With courage, stout and bold,
That labours through the winter,
Through stormy winds and cold.
To clothe our fields with plenty,
Our farmyards to renew,
To crown them with contentment,
Behold the painful plough.

Verse 2

Old friend Gardener says to the ploughman,
Don't count your trade with our,
But walk out in the garden,
And view those early flowers,
Besides such curious borders,
And pleasant walks to view,
I am sure there's no such pleasure,
Performed by this plough.

Verse 3

'Old friend Gardener', says the ploughman,
'Your calling I don't surprise
But each man for his living,
Upon his trade relies,
Yet if not for the ploughman,
Both rich and poor must bow,
For none of these bold heroes,
Could live without the plough.

Verse 4

Samson was a strong man,
And Solomon was wise,
Alexandria was a conqueror,
It was his daily pride.
King Harold he was valiant,
And many a thousand slew,
But none of these bold heroes,
Could live without the plough.