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A Farmer's Boy
The sun had set behind yon hill across the dreary moor,
When weary and lame a boy there came up to a farmer’s door.
Can you tell me where ever there be one that will me employ-
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, and be a farmers boy,
And be a farmer’s boy.
My father’s dead, my mother is left with five children large and small,
And what is worse for my mother still I’m the biggest of them all.
Tho’ little I am I would labour hard if I could get employ –
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, and be a farmer’s boy,
And be a farmer’s boy.
And if that you no boy do want, one favour I’ve to ask
If you’ll shelter me till break of day from this cold winter’s blast,
At the break of day I will haste away elsewhere to seek employ—
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, and be a farmer’s boy,
And be a farmer’s boy.
The farmer’s wife cried “try the lad, let him no longer seek”,
“Yes father do”, the daughter cried, while the tears roll’d down her cheek.
“For those who would work it’s hard to want and wander for employ,
Don’t let him go, but let him stay and be a farmer’s boy,
And be a farmer’s boy.
The farmer’s boy grew up a man, and the good old couple died,
They left the lad the farm they had, and the daughter for his bride,
Now the lad which was and the farm now has, often thinks and smiles with joy,
And bless the lucky day he came that way,
To be a farmer’s boy,
To be a farmer’s boy.
The sun had set behind yon hill across the dreary moor,
When weary and lame a boy there came up to a farmer’s door.
Can you tell me where ever there be one that will me employ-
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, and be a farmers boy,
And be a farmer’s boy.
My father’s dead, my mother is left with five children large and small,
And what is worse for my mother still I’m the biggest of them all.
Tho’ little I am I would labour hard if I could get employ –
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, and be a farmer’s boy,
And be a farmer’s boy.
And if that you no boy do want, one favour I’ve to ask
If you’ll shelter me till break of day from this cold winter’s blast,
At the break of day I will haste away elsewhere to seek employ—
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, and be a farmer’s boy,
And be a farmer’s boy.
The farmer’s wife cried “try the lad, let him no longer seek”,
“Yes father do”, the daughter cried, while the tears roll’d down her cheek.
“For those who would work it’s hard to want and wander for employ,
Don’t let him go, but let him stay and be a farmer’s boy,
And be a farmer’s boy.
The farmer’s boy grew up a man, and the good old couple died,
They left the lad the farm they had, and the daughter for his bride,
Now the lad which was and the farm now has, often thinks and smiles with joy,
And bless the lucky day he came that way,
To be a farmer’s boy,
To be a farmer’s boy.
A podcast will soon be available with the spoken word for this poem.
Peter
