Come all jolly ploughmen and help me to sing I will sing in the praise of you all If a man he don't labor, how can he get bread? I will sing and make merry withal
It was of two young brethren, two young brethren born It was of two young brethren born One he was a shepherd and a tender of sheep The other a planter of corn
We will rile it, we will toil it through mud and through clay We will plough it up deeper and low Then after comes the seedsman, his corn for to sow And the harrows to rake it in rows
There is April, there is May, there is June and July What a pleasure it is for to see the corn grow In August we will reap it, we will cut, sheathe and bind it And go down with our scythes for to mow
And after we have reaped it of every sheaf And gathered up every ear With a drop of good beer, boys, and our hearts full of cheer We will wish them another good year
Our barns they are full, our fields they are cleared Good health to our master and friends We will make no more to do, but we will plough and we'll sow And provide for the very next year.