The Ploughboy (Lark in the Morn)
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John Renfro Davis
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Lyrics
This is not related to the other Ploughboy. It appeared in Frank Kidson's Traditional Tunes in 1891 as the Pretty Ploughboy. In 1904 Sharp and Maron identified the tune in Somerset England as The Lark in the Morn. It also appeared in Old Irish Folk Music and Songs by P. W. Joyce (1909). As I was a-wandering
In the month of sweet May
I heard a young ploughboy
To whistle and to say
And aye as he was lamenting
These words he did say
There's no life like the ploughboy
In the month of sweet May.

The lark is a bonny bird
And flies off her nest
She mounts in the morn air
With the dew on her breast
She flies o'er the ploughboy,
She whistles and she sings
And at eve she returns
With the dew on her wing.

Early one morning
The ploughboy arose
Whistling and singing
To his horses as he goes
He met a pretty fair maid,
He met her in the land
One question he asked her
And he thought it was no shame.

One question he asked her;
He would take her to the fair
To buy her some ribbons
For to tie up her hair
Now this fair maid
Being young and foolish
To the fair would not go
Saying: I don't want your ribbons
I can buy myself a bow.

Then walking and talking
Down by yon shady grove
With no-one to listen
But the young turtle dove
He threw his arms around her neck
And brought her to the fair
And he bought her the ribbons
For to tie back her hair.

And as they returned from
The fair unto the town
The meadows were mowed and
The grass it was cut down
The nightingale she whistled
Upon the hawthorn spray
And the moon was a-shining
Upon the new-mown hay.

Good luck unto the ploughboys
Wherever they may be
They will take a winsome lass
For to sit at upon their knee
And with a jug of beer, boys
They'll whistle and they'll sing
And the ploughboy is as happy
As a prince or a king.
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From Folksongs of Britain and Ireland
See Bibliography for full information.