The Farmer’s Daughter

As I was a-walking one morning fair,
I met a farmer’s daughter so sweet and rare,
She asked me to tarry, she asked me to stay,
But I’m but a ploughboy and must be away.

“Oh stay with me, ploughboy,” the farmer’s daughter cried,
“I’ll give you my hand and I’ll be your bride.”
“I cannot stay, nor can I lie,
For I’m but a ploughboy, the fields are nigh.”

She took his hand and she gave him a smile,
Said, “I’ll be your true love all the while.”
They planned a wedding on a summer’s day,
To bind their true love in a happy way.

When they came to the church, the parson was there,
The ploughboy took off his coat and laid it with care,
And lo! Beneath his humble guise was seen,
A gentleman dressed in velvet green.

“I’m no ploughboy, my dear,” he said with pride,
“But a captain of the king’s own side.”
The farmer’s daughter blushed and she smiled with glee,
For love had made a man of a ploughboy, you see.