Success to the Farmer Come all jolly fellows who delight in being mellow Attend unto me, I beseech you For a pint when it's quiet, come lads let us try it Dull thinking will drive a man crazy I have lawns, I have bowers I have fields, I have flowers And the lark is my morning alarmer Come jolly boys, now, here's God Speed the Plow Long life and success to the Farmer Now all who are able, come sit at my table And I'll not hear one word of complaining For the tinkling of glasses all music surpasses And I long to hear bottles a-draining For here I am king, I can laugh, drink, or sing And let no man appear as a stranger Just show me the ass who refuses a glass and I'll treat him to hay in the manger May the wealthy and great roll in splendour and state I envy them not, I declare it For I eat my own ham, my chicken and lamb And I shear my own sheep and I wear it Mr. Dickens said believed the song originates from the county of Sussex.June JB
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!