Joys of the harvest/The joys of the harvest

The JOYS of the HARVEST.

COME all ye lads and lasses,
together let us go,
Into some pleasant corn field,
our courage for to show;

With the edges of our sickles,
so brave we clear the land;
Work on my boys the farmer cries,
here’s liquor at command.

With a good old leathern bottle,
and beer that is so brown,
We strip and reap together,
while bright Phœbus does go down.

So early in the morning,
the birds begin to sing,
Such echoes of sweet harmony,
makes all the groves to ring.

And in comes pretty Nancy,
her colour for to raise,
She is a lovely creature,
I must speak in her praise:

She is a lovely creature,
the flower of my delight,
Through all the groves and forests,
I'll range both day and night

John Preston has good liquor,
good liquor it is said,
Good liquor makes good blood,
and good blood pretty maids.

She gathers it and she binds it,
she loads it in her arms,
She pitch’d it to the waggoner,
for to fill up his barns.

And thus the industrious farmer,
by the sweet of his brow,
He labours and endeavours,
to make his barley mow.

Now harvest it’s all over,
and corn it's free from harm;
Before we to the market go,
we must thresh in the barn.

And at the harvest supper,
so merrily we will sing,
We’ll drink a health to the barley-mow,
and to good George our King.

So here’s a good health to the farmers,
or else we are to blame,
We’ll wish them health and happiness,
’till harvest comes again.