The Brave Young Ploughboy

Here’s a taste of the Copper Family…

‘Twas of a brisk young ploughboy, come listen to this refrain
And join with me in chorus and sing the ploughboy’s praise.
My song is of the ploughboy’s praise and unto you I’ll relate the same,
He whistles and sings and drives his plough,
the brave ploughboy.

So early in the morning the ploughboy he is seen
All hastening to the stable his horses for to clean.
Their manes and tails he does comb straight, with chaff and corn he will them bate
And he’ll endeavour to plough straight,
the brave ploughboy.

When he goes out in the morning to harrow plough or sow
And with a gentle cast, my boys, he’ll give his corn a throw.
All this I’ll have you understand is just to fill the reaper’s hand,
Likewise I’ll have you understand,
it comes from the ploughboy.

Now seedtime being over the fields look fresh and gay
There’s merry lads to mow the grass while damsels make the hay.
The small birds sing on every tree, the cuckoo joins sweet harmony,
All welcome here as you may see,
the brave ploughboy.

Then haying being over and harvest does draw near,
Our Master he does welcome us with plenty of beef and beer.
We all sit round to drink our beer while Peace and Plenty fill the year
And we’ll be happy while we are here
and drink to the ploughboy.

Now harvest being over we start the plough once more,
Our Master has invited us unlocks his cellar door.
With cake and ale we have our fill because we’ve done our work so well
And there’s no one can despise the skill
of the brave ploughboy.

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