Classic Poem

Come all you jolly ploughmen
With courage stout and bold,
They'll labour all the winter
Through stormy winds and cold
To clothe your fields with plenty,
Your farmyards to renew,
To crown them with contentment
Remains the painful plough.

Adam was a ploughman
When ploughing first began,
The next that did succeed him
Was Cain his eldest son.
Some of their generation
Their calling doth pursue,
That bread may not be wanted
Remains the painful plough.

" O ploughman," says the gardener,
" Don't count your trade with ours.
There's walking in the garden
To view those early flowers,
There's all those curious borders
And pleasant walks to view,
There's no such peace and contentment
Promoted by the plough."

" O gardener," says the ploughman,
" Our calling don't despise.
Every man for his living
Doth in his trade relies.
Were it not for the ploughman
Both rich and poor must rue,
For we're all depending
Upon the painful plough.

" Behold the wealthy merchants
That trades upon the seas,
That brings the golden treasures
To those that live at ease,
That brings the fruit and spices
And silks too also,
They are brought from the Indies
By virtue of the plough."

" And the men that do bring them,
We've only to be true,
They could not sail the ocean
Without the painful plough.
For they must have bread, biscuits,
Flour, pudding, beef and peas
To feed the jolly sailors
As they sail upon the seas."

I hope no-one's offended
With me for singing this,
For I never was intended
For anything amiss.
If you consider it rightly
You'll find what I say is true:
Not a man that you can mention
Can live without the plough.