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The Lark in the Morning cho: The lark in the morning she rises off her nest She goes home in the ev'ning with the dew all on her breast. And like the jolly ploughboy, she whistles and she sings She goes home in the ev'ning with the dew all on her wings. Roger the ploughboy, he is a dashing blade He goes whistling and singing over yonder green glade He met with pretty Susan, she's handsome I declare She is far more enticing than the birds all in the air. One ev'ning coming home from the rakes of the town The meadows they were green and the grass had been cut down "If I should chance to tumble all in the new-mown hay For it's kiss me now or never, love," this bonny lass did say. When twenty long weeks they were over and were past Her mammy chanced to notice how she thickened 'round the waist. "It was the handsome ploughboy," the maiden she did say "For he caused me for to tumble all in the new-mown hay." Here's health to young ploughboys wherever you may be That likes to have a bonny lass a-sitting on his knee With a jug of good strong porter, you'll whistle and you'll sing, For a ploughboy is as happy as a prince or a king. A different version, dealing with the results of the ploughboy's handiwork. CH CH
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!