| Author | Topic: Add: Ploughboy's Glory | |
| dmcg | Posted - 15 Oct 03 - 04:53 pm | |
Come all you gay ploughboys, come help me to sing, I will sing in the praise of you all. And if we don't labour, how can we get bread, We will sing and be merry withal. O there was two brethren, two brethrens born, Its there was two b[rethrens] born. O its one was a shepherd, a tender of sheep, And the other a planter of corn. There is April, there is May, there is June and July, What a pleasure to see the corn grow. And when August draws nigh, we will reap sheaves and tie, Go down with our scythes for to mow. O its when we had mowed and repaed every sheaf, We will carry it safe to the barn, We will make no more to do, but to plughing we'll go, And provide for the very next year. Then at night we retire thro' clods and thro' clay. No comfort at all can we find. We will sit down and sing, and drive away care, We will leave this wide world to repine. Source: M Dawney, The Ploughboy's Glory, EFDSS, 1977 Notes: Part of the Butterworth collection (IV 261-262; V1a 61; VIIc, 86.) Sung by Mr Knight, Horsham, April 1907. Micheal Dawney wrote:
To this can be added the Copper version, 'Two Brethren'. Several commentators have suggested that the two brethren referred to are Cain and Abel (Genesis 4 v2: "Now Abel became a shepherd and kept flocks, while Cain tilled the soil.") As Malcolm mentioned, Michael Dawney's Ploughboys Glory is still available from the English Folk Dance and Song Society, but stocks are low. At present, old stock is being cleared, and the book can be had at a reduced price of £3.25. EFDSS Sale catalogue Database entry is here. Edited By dmcg - 15-Oct-2003 04:59:22 PM | ||
| dmcg | Posted - 01 Dec 07 - 09:34 am | |
There were two loving brothers, two brethren were born Two brethren whose trades we still keep; The one was a ploughman, a planter of corn, The other a tender of sheep. Come, all jolly ploghboys, come help me for to sing, I'll sing in the praise of the plough, For though we must labour from summer to spring We all will be merry boys now. We've hir-ed, we've mir-ed, through mire and through clay, No pleasure at all could we find; Now we'll laugh, dance and sing, and drive care away, No more in this world to repine. Here's April, here's May, here's June and July, 'Tis a pleasure to see the corn grow; In August we moil it, shear low and reap high, And bind up our scythes for to mow. So now we have gathered up every sheaf, And scrape-ed up every ear; We'll make no more to-do, but to plough and to sow, And provide for the very next year. Source: Broadwood, L, 1893, English County Songs, London, Leadenhall Press Notes: "From Mrs Squarey, fragment only of words and tune; remainder supplied from a Hampshire version in The Besom Maker by Heywood SUmner, Esq." | ||